











Class 

Book 






















































































































































THOU 


OH PERSONAL 


GION 


Being a treatise on tije Christian 3Ltfe in its tiro dfjief 
Elements, IBebotiun anti practice 


BY 

EDWARD MEYRICK GOULBURN, D.D., D.C.L. 

■» ♦ 

DEAN OF NORWICH 


NEW EDITION 


NTcto Yotft 

E. & J. B. YOUNG & COMPANY 

COOPER UNION, FOURTH AVENUE 


MDCCCLXXXVII 





By Transfer 

D. C. Public j|^ry 


TO 

WILLIAM GIBBS, ESQ., 

OF TYNTESFIELD, 

THE KIND FRIEND OF THE POOR, 

TI1E MUNIFICENT PATRON OF ALL GOOD WORKS, 

AND 

A LOYAL SON OF THE ENGLISH CHURCH, 

THESE PAGES ARE INSCRIBED 

WITH REVERENCE, GRATITUDE, AND AFFECTION,, 


A 2 






£1, Sussex Gardens, Hyde Park, 
October 17, 1861. 

My deab Me. Gibbs, 

You have kindly permitted me to inscribe to you 
this little treatise on the Christian Life. Most heartily do I 
wish that I had some worthier tribute of respect and affection 
for one, who has shown me such unceasing kindness, and has 
been the instrument of such incalculable blessings to my flock. 
But I know you will believe that my acknowledgment of all 
that I owe to you is, if not of any great value, at any rate 
sincere. 

We have laboured much and happily together in the cause 
of the New Church, which your munificence has enabled us to 
complete and to endow. Perhaps this little book may serve 
as a memorial of the happy hours so spent in one another's 
company,—hours which, I can assure you, have been some of 
the pleasantest of my life. 

The leading thoughts of my treatise are so well expressed 
by a passage from a work which you gave me, that I should 
like to adopt it as my motto : 

“The oftencr I read Jeremy Taylor, the more I am satisfied of the 
excellence of his method of recommending holiness to the heart and 
imagination, as well as to the understanding of frail man by dwelling 
on the infinite love and condescension of our gracious Father in taking 
so much pains to make it attainable, if not easy; and by miirg it up . 
with every act and duty of ordinary life, so as to make every hour spent 
in the world , as ivell as in the closet , when sanctified by its motive, an 
act of religion and obedience. I have often wished to hear Christianity 
inculcated from the pulpit on this principle.”— Sir John Richardson, as 
quoted in the Life of Mr. Joshua Watson. Vol. li. p. 10. 

You will, I think, see that these three thoughts,—thg 
power of attaining, under God’s grace, a real, though gradual, 
growth in sanctity; the possibility of making the homeliest 
acts of common life contribute to this growth; and the expe¬ 
diency of giving to such topics as these much more room than 
they generally occupy in Christian Teaching, have been more 


VI 


Epistle Dedicatory. 


or less present to my mind throughout my argument. I have 
to thank you for giving me the opportunity of here stating the 
fundamental principles of my little hook so tersely and clearly. 

There is one point connected with this treatise on which an 
explanation seems necessary. By those who know what an 
all-important position the Holy Scriptures hold in the Economy 
of Grace, it will be remarked as a grievous omission, that in 
that part of the work, which professedly treats of Devotional 
Exercises, there should not be a chapter devoted to the study 
of Scripture. My answer is, that a single chapter could not 
do justice to a subject so wide and important, and that I have 
already published a small volume upon it, which has met with 
a fair circulation and a kind reception. I do not wish to 
repeat myself in print. 

It only remains to add, by way of explaining some pecu¬ 
liarities of the style, that these pages, before the}'' were thrown 
into the shape of a treatise, have been orally delivered, some 
of them in your own hearing, in the form of Sermons; but 
that the subject of them has been upon my mind for seven or 
eight years, and in the course of that period most of the 
chapters have been reconsidered and written afresh. Faults, 
no doubt, many will be found in them; but I trust that on 
topics of such transcendent importance I have not allowed 
myself to put forth any crude or precipitate views. 

You will join with me, my dear Mr. Gibbs, in the prayer 
that, so far as it exhibits His Truth, God’s Blessing may rest 
upon this little work, and that what is erroneous in it may 
be forgiven to me, and neutralized to the reader, through the 
Grace of Our Lord Jesus Christ. 

I remain, my dear Mr. Gibbs, 

Your affectionate friend, 

Edwaed Meykick GoulbueMc 


William Gibbs, Esq. 
&c. &c. &c. 


PREFACE TO THE FOURTH EDITION. 


I have taken the opportunity offered by the call for a 
fourth edition of this little work to add two Chapters to 
it. The substance of the first of these (Chap. III. of 
Part I.) is indeed contained already in Chap. I. of Part 
III.; but it seemed to me to require further expansion 
and development than I there had space to give it. The 
treatise in general is an enlarged commentary on the 
words, “ Work out your own Salvation and I thought 
it therefore desirable to give great prominence to the 
other (and equally important) side of Truth, that “it is 
God who worketh in us both to will and to do of His 
good pleasure.” 

The line of thought taken in the other new Chap¬ 
ter (Chap. IY. of Part III.) has been helpful and con¬ 
solatory to myself in a busy life, and I have thought 
therefore that it might be so to others similarly circum¬ 
stanced. The leading idea of it is very beautifully 
and delicately traced in “ Les Adieux d’Adolphe Monod 
(XVI. Le secret d’une vie sainte, active, et paisible),” 
of which address my Chapter is little more than an 
expansion. E. M. G. 

ADVERTISEMENT TO THE EIGHTH 
EDITION. 

Two other Chapters (one on Fasting, and another on 
Almsgiving) are added in this Edition, which it is 
hoped will make the work somewhat more complete. 

E. M. G, 














































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CONTENTS, 


la it E 

3Entcotiuctoti>, 

CHAPTER I. 

OX THE LOW STANDARD OF PERSONAL RELIGION NOW 
PREVALENT, AND THE CAUSES OF IT. 

“A certain man drew a bow at a venture , and smote the king of 
Israel between the joints of the harness — 1 Kings xxii. 34. 

PAGE 

Religion widely diffused, but of a low type in individuals—the 
immense motive powers of Christianity should secure larger 
results—Analogy between knowledge and piety in respect of 
their diffusion over a wide area and their shallowness in indi¬ 
viduals,—Is there any defect in the means employed, which may 
account for this result?—The Ministry the great means of form¬ 
ing in man the saintly character—The guidance of the conscience 
(as distinct from its awakening) too often neglected in our Minis¬ 
try—our aim to make good impressions, but not to follow them 
up by systematic teaching—Popular Lectures as a means of diffus¬ 
ing knowledge compared with popular Sermons as a means of 
diffusing Religion—Neglect of ministerial guidance of the con¬ 
science due (1) to a reaction from the confessional, (2) to a reaction 
from the dry moral sermons of half a century ago—Earnest desire 
of holiness the state of mind contemplated in the reader—This 
desire is the rudiment out of which the spiritual creation may be, 

Step by step, built up. 


1 


X 


Contents. 


CHAPTER II. 

ON THE CHIEF CHARACTERISTIC OF PERSONAL 
RELIGION. 

“ Grow in Grace” — 2 Pet. iii. 18. 

PAGE 

Accurate notion of the nature of Personal Religion, desirable in 
the outset—It involves, as its chief characteristic,.growth in grace 
—growth the only sure sign of life in Nature, where the subject lias 
not yet reached maturity—as the soul never reaches its maturity 
here, its continual growth is the only satisfactory evidence of iis 
life—the distinction between spiritual life and spiritual impulses 
illustrated by the difference between the operations of life and 
those of galvanism—individualising scrutiny of the character at 
the Day of Judgment—the question of our Religion being personal 
will resolve itself into the question, Is it a growing Religion?— 
this (and no other) the critical question for each of us—Is growth 
consistent with relapses ? Yes, if the fall have been one of in¬ 
firmity—the occasional strong impulse of penitentlove—the Chris¬ 
tian’s progress, like that of the tide, is movement upon the whole — 
Growth in Grace, as in Nature, is by many fresh starts—all healthy 
growth gradual—no comfort in these reflections for the indolent 
and formal—if we are not advancing, we must be falling back— 
formation of the character, either for good or evil, continually in 
progress . ... . . .10 


CHAPTER III. 

OF THE ENTIRE DEPENDENCE OF SANCTITY ON CHRIST, 
AND OF THE RELATION WHICH THE MEANS OF GRACE 
HOLD TO HIM. 

“ Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot hear fruit 
of itself, except it abide in the vine; no more can ye, except ye 
abide in Me. 

“7 am the vine , ye are the branches: he that abideth in Me, and 
I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit: for without Me 
ye can do nothing .” —John xv. 4, 5. 

A clear notion of the nature of Christian Holiness essential— 

The difference of meaning between “ Without Me” and “ Apart 
from Me”—the fruit of the Spirit enumerated in detail in Gal. v. 
22,23—Dependence of Justification on Christ generally recognized 
—Sanctification not an accumulation of righteous acts and ordi¬ 
nances, but a momentary receiving out of the fulness of Christ—the 
circulating sap, which is the life of the vine-branch, not from the 
branch, but from the Stock—all graces inhere in Christ, as colours in 
the Sunlight; and independently of Christ, the heart has no grace, 
even as, independently of the Suu, a landscape has no colour—the 



Contents. 


xi 


» . . , PAGE 

secret ot sanctity, then, is mutual indwelling of the Christian in 
Christ, of Christ in the Christian—We abide in Him by faith in 
Him, as being made to us Sanctification—Could we doubt His will¬ 
ingness to sanctify us, even if we had no promise to that effect?— 

May not our very struggles to be holy be, in a certain sense, a token 
of want of faith ?—yet He will not (and cannot) sanctify us, unless 
we yield up the soul into His hands—and this implies yielding up the 
will —Christ abides in the Christian by Ordinance, and specially by 
the Holy Communion—howthe allegory before us implies that even 
this Sacrament will be profitless without faith—Ordinances aro 
merely channels by which the Virtue of Christ is conveyed into the 
souls of faithful recipients—illustration from the story of the woman 
of Samaria—Christ the Well; the Ordinance, the Pitcher; Faith, 
the muscular action, which lifts the pitcher.19 


CHAPTEK IV. 

PERSONAL RELIGION BOTH ACTIVE AND CONTEM¬ 
PLATIVE. 

“ In the year that King TJzziah died I sate also the Lord sitting 
upon a throne, high and lifted up, and His train filed the 
temple. 

“ Above it stood the Seraphims: each one had six wings: with 
twain he covered his face, and with twain he covered his feet, 
and with twain he did fly." —Isa. vi. 1, 2. 

The subject falls into two great divisions—The angelic life the 
model of the Christian—Adoration and Service the elements of the 
angelic life—Monasticism discards tiie latter of these elements— 
the active services of holy Angels—necessity for work in the consti¬ 
tution of our nature—each of us has a stewardship, and a work 
annexed to it, in the great social system—the “business” of the 
child and of the slave—the two chief scenes, in which angels are 
seen engaged in Worship—the barrenness and weariness of activity, 
if not fed from the springs of devotion—defective devotion the 
snare of these busy times—The angelic life has been led upon 
earth, under the pressure of physical infirmities, by Christ—His 
persistent activity and unwearied devotion—Service and Prayer 
must interpenetrate one another—prayer the spot of God’s children 
—are we men of prayer?. 


30 



Contents. 


xu 


3!3art M. 

OTje (tfontcmplatibe iLife* 

CHAPTER I. 

OP THE MAGNIFICENCE OF PRATER, AND THE PRAC¬ 
TICAL DEDUCTIONS FROM THAT DOCTRINE. 

“ He that cometh to God.” —LIeb. xi. G. 

PAGE 

An effort necessary to grasp the idea of prayer—Gradual ascent 
as necessary to the mind in reaching a great idea as to the body in 
reaching a great height—Prayer a coming to God—we will seek to 
realize the grandeur of this idea—supposed privilege of consulting 
in our difficulties the wisest and best man upon earth—of consult¬ 
ing a departed parent or friend—of consulting our guardian-angel 
—proof that such intercourse between this world and another 
would be largely practised, if it were feasible—these hypotheses 
help us to realize the idea of coming to God, which however 
must always transcend our powers—God permits, invites, com¬ 
mands our approach—But may not the consciousness of our 
guilt debar us from access?—were it not for Christ, it must be 
so—the symbolism of the surplice—difficulty of rescuing prayer 
from formality—design of this Chapter to help us in such difficulties 
—the exercise however demands time—which might perhaps be 
gained by self-discipline—a little well done better than much done 
superficially—the end of stated Prayers (as well as the entrance into 
them) should be made the subject of attention—we must watch 
against subsequent levity.41 


CHAPTER II. 

OF THE TWOFOLD ASPECT OF PRAYER, AND THE 
NECESSITY OF PRACTISING IT IN BOTH ASPECTS. 

“ Let my prayer be set forth before Thee as incense; and the lift¬ 
ing up of my hands as the evening sacrifice — Psalm cxli. 2. 

Prayer introduced in two different connexions in the Sermon on 
the Mount—Prayer a means of supplying our wants and also an 
act of homage to God—the Christian a priest—his sacrifice of 
the body—his sacrifice of alms—his sacrifice of prayer—incense 
a type of prayer—the Altar on which these sacrifices must be 
made—prayer as a tax upon our time compared to alms as a tax 
upon our substance—think of yourself as a priest when you offer 



Contents. 


Xlll 


PAGE 

prayer—liow these thoughts may help us against the temptation 
to leave off, when prayer promises to be dry and barren—we 
pray for God's honour, not exclusively for our own comfort— 
when you cannot pray as you would, pray as you can—perseverance 
in prayer under discouragements the most acceptable offering—an 
illustration of this from the writings of St. Franqois de Sales— 
necessity of redeeming our Prayers from selfishness, by (1) mixing 
intercession with them—(2) and by mix ing praise with them— 
Praise often quickens a torpid heart.50 


CHAPTER III. 

THE SECRET OF SUCCESS IN PRATER. 

“And in the morning, as they passed by, they saw the fig-tree 
dried up from the roots. And Peter calling to remembrance 
saith unto Him, Master, behold, the fig-tree which Thou cursedst 
is withered away. And Jesus answering saith unto them, Have 
faith in God. For verily I say unto you, That whosoever shall 
say unto this mountain, Be thou removed, and be thou cast into 
the sea „• and shall not doubt in his heart, but shall believe that 
those things which he saith shall come to pass; he shall have 
whatsoever he saith.’' — Mark xi. 20 — 23. 

Our Lord’s comments on incidents which pass before Him not 
always what we should have anticipated—the lesson He draws 
from the blighted fig-tree not what we should have expected— 
the withering of the tree led St. Peter to reflect on the power 
of his Master’s words—Our Lord replies that Ilis followers should 
say words of power like His, if only they will pray in faith and 
love—the small effect of the prayers of religious persons—may 
it not be due to their not expecting an answer?—would they not 
be surprised if an answer should come?—Our despondency as 
regards any fruits of sanctity in ourselves—necessity of honouring 
God while we pray, by believing that He will be true to His 
promise—ask for definite graces, and expect definite results—A 
promise to prayer which contemplates in the petitioner nothing but 
asking—sublimity and freedom of this promise . . . .50 


CHAPTER IV. 

SELF-EXAMINATION. 

“ And the Lord sent Nathan unto David. And he came unto 
him, and said unto him, There were two men in one city ; the 
one rich, and the other poor. The rich man had exceeding 
many flocks and herds: but the poor man had nothing, save one 
little ewe lamb, which he had bought and noui'ished up : and it 
grew up together with him, and with his children: it did eat 


xiv 


Contents. 


of his own moat, and drank of his own cup, and lay in his 
bosom, and was unto him as a daughter . And there came a 
traveller unto the rich man, and he spared to take of his own 
flock, and of his own herd, to dress for the wayfaring man that 
was come unto him; but took the poor maids lamb, and dressed 
it for the man that was come to him. And David's anger was 
greatly kindled against the man : and he said to Nathan, As 
the Lord liveth, the man that hath done this thing shall surely 
die: and he shall restore the lamb fourfold, because he did this 
thing, and because he had no pity. And Nathan said to 
David, Thou art the man ."—2 Sam. xii. 1—7* 


tage 

David in disguise brought before bis own judgment-seat—We 
never judge ourselves as severely as we judge an abstract case— 
evil never admitted by the will without some palliation—it is self- 
examination which makes religion a personal thing—special neces¬ 
sity of pressing it on members of the reformed churches—prone¬ 
ness of self-examination to lapse into formality—necessity of it 
arises from the deceitfulness of the heart—Warm characters like 
David and St. Peter specially liable to self-deception, and why— 
dangerousness of trusting to some fair-spoken but dishonest man in 
a great mercantile speculation—the trust which we naturally place 
in our own hearts—self-love conspires to make dupes of us— 
Means to be used in counteracting the deceitfulness of the heart 
—As we Cannot ourselves give a fair judgment on our own sins, 
might we not sometimes call in another to judge them?—or ask 
ourselves how such an one would regard it, if we communicated 
it to him?—the better as well as the worse parts of our conduct 
need self-examination—suspect your own motives—part of our 
religion due to custom—part of it a homage to public opinion—part 
of it due to the love of keeping up appearances—part to natural 
activity of mind—difference between an innocent, and a gracious 
motive—secret prayer more or less a test of personal religion— 
dissatisfaction with ourselves of no avail unless it leads to satis¬ 
faction with Christ..08 


CHAPTER V. 

OF INTERCESSORY PRAYER. 

“ They made the breastplate: . and they set in it four rows 

of stones: . And the stones were according to the names 

of the children of Israel, twelve, according to their names, 
like the engravings of a signet, every one with his name, accord- 
ing to the twelve tribes ."— Exod. xxxix. 9, 10. 14. 

The symbolism of the High Priest’s breastplate—the Christian 
as a priest must offer intercession—intercession and self-examina¬ 
tion necessary to keep one another in check—instances of interces¬ 
sory prayer in Scripture—how intercession is woven into the 
texture of the Lord’s Prayer—testimony of the Prayer Book to 





Contents. 


xv 


IA ti E 

this duty—grounds of the duty—we are members one of another, 
and our interests bound up with those of other men—the interest 
we have in the rulers of our country—systematic neglect of 
intercession for any but the members of our own family—grounds 
of the disinclination to it—(1) it appears presumptuous—answer to 
this—(2) supposed impotency of intercessory prayer—reflect that in 
offering it we co-operate with the whole Church—(3) want of 
interest in others—selfishness hinders the success of our prayers— 
the ground of this explained—hints as to the particular blessings 
which we may ask for our friends. 79 


CHAPTER VI. 

OF DEVOTIONAL EE AD IN G. 

“And Elisha died, and they buried him. And the bands of the 
Moabites invaded the land at the corning in of the year. 

“ And it came to pass, as they were burying a man , that, behold, 
they spied a band of men; and they cast the man into the 
sepulchre of Elisha: and when the man was let down , and 
touched the bones of Elisha , he revived , and stood up on his 
feet .”—2 Kings xiii. 20, 21. 

In what sense Protestants may believe in relics—advantage of 
association with the wise and good—in society circumstances may 
nullify this advantage—the best mind of an author mirrored in 
his devotional works—bad books a powerful agency for evil— 
spiritual reading has to a certain extent taken the place of 
preaching, and therefore ought to be regarded in the light of a 
Divine ordinance — particular writers serviceable to particular 
minds—great variety of the inspired literature — corresponding 
variety in Devotional works—select what suits you—caution as to 
correctness of taste in the choice of devotional works—do not 
eschew the dry—read as a devotional exercise—thinking of the 
author (if deceased) as a Saint in Paradise—avoid dissipation in 
reading—recourse to the favourite spiritual author will often 
revive our own hearts in a period of deadness . . . » 88 


CHAPTER VII. 

OF FASTING. 

“ I keep under my body , and bring it into subjection .”—1 Cor. 

ix. 27 - 

Some counsels on Fasting likely to meet the state of mind 
contemplated in the reader of this Book—Fasting never literally 
prescribed, but the principle of it insisted upon—commended to us, 
not commanded—Analogies between it and the observance of 
Sunday—Division of the subject—Principle of Fasting gathered 


xvi 


Contents. 


P-4GE 

from the words of St. Paul—The imagery employed in these words, 
the occasion of these words, and their connexion with the argument 
—the principle of not indulging to the uttermost in innocent grati¬ 
fications illustrated—Let there be a broad margin between you and 
danger—the principle applied to amusement—In amusements, how¬ 
ever lawful, we must lay restrictions on ourselves—The principle 
applied to food—Certain class of sins, for the extirpation of which 
Fasting is absolutely necessary—Unbridled indulgence unsafe under 
any circumstances—how self-restraint is the highest freedom—how 
easily we may deceive ourselves in judging of our attachment to 
comforts and luxuries—Stated seasons for Fasting—the value and 
necessity of such seasons—The duty of habitual temperance no 
more supersedes the stated fast, than the duty of Prayer without 
ceasing supersedes the observance of the Fourth Commandment— 
Fasting to be spiritualised by its connexion with Prayer and Alms¬ 
giving, as the Fourth Commandment must be spiritualized by 
acts of Piety and Charity—Luxury and over-refinement the evils of 
the time on which we are fallen—how the devout observance of 
Fasting would apply a corrective to these evils .... 07 


CHAPTER VIII. 

ON ALMSGIVING. 

“ Thy prayers and thine alms are come up for a memorial before 

God.” —Acts x. 4. 

The two features of the religious life of Cornelius—Prayer 
and Almsgiving co-ordinate—Prayer a fulfilment of the first, Alms¬ 
giving of the second Table of the Law—both spoken of as having a 
sacrificial fragrance—neither have a justifying efficacy; yet both 
are acceptable when offered in faith—Alms often given grudgingly 
as Prayers are offered formally—What spirit in giving will make 
our alms come up as a memorial before God ?—their being offered 
on principle and not on impulse—the obvious danger which there 
would be in abandoning stated Prayer, and leaving Prayer to good 
impulse—Viewed as an act of homage to Almighty God, Prayer 
must be offered methodically —Modern almsgiving seldom syste¬ 
matic, usually impulsive—How the system of things has adjusted 
itself to this practice—questionable methods of appeal to our sensi¬ 
bilities—A charity sermon defined and considered—even the cha¬ 
rity sermon not the best way of obtaining supplies—the Apostolic 
precept inculcating periodical almsgiving, and the principle of it— 
how the Primitive Christians acted on the letter of it—The offer¬ 
tory of the Early Church—How the principle of the Apostolic 
precept may be now acted upon—Settle the proportion of your 
income or earnings which is due to God for works of Piety and 
Charity—Open an account of charitable expenditure, and examine 
periodically whether this proportion has been given—if not, make 
up the deficit—from the adoption of this pla^: by every one , would 
accrue (1) abundant supply for all deserving charities; (2) peace 
of conscience ; (3) a growing spirit of liberality, (4) cheerfulness 


Contents. 


XVII 


o PAGB 

in giving—Nummary of what has been said—The inspiriting 
thought that we may have memorials in Heaven—no remembrance 
there without a requital—The fourfold recompense of the prayers 
and alms of Cornelius ..112 


CHAPTER IX. 

OF FREQUENTING THE HOLY COMMUNION - . 

v ‘ Whether \therefore ye eat , or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do 
all to the glory of God ' 1 — 1 Cor. x. 31. 

Modern convictions on the desirableness of frequent Commu¬ 
nion—Necessity hence arising for a change in the manuals of pre¬ 
paration—Rare Communion would be desirable if the Eucharist 
were merely a commemorative Rite—but it is also the highest 
means of grace—and seems from the Acts of the Apostles to have 
been of equally frequent occurrence with other means—difference 
between liveliness of feeling, and strengthening of principle—it is 
the latter, not the former, we should seek in the means of grace— 
Old-fashioned feeling in favour of rare Communion analyzed—its 
good element—and its bad—to make frequent Communion avail¬ 
able our lives must be conformed to the ordinance—this conformity 
stands in sanctifying our common and necessary actions, by super¬ 
natural motives—how this sanctification of common actions is 
expressed in the ordinance—objection arising from the desirable¬ 
ness of having stated periods for a solemn self-scrutiny—why 
should not the three great Communions be reserved for this special 
scrutiny?—frequent Communion not Popish—Adolphe Monod’s 
death-bed testimony tc the expediency of frequent Communion . 122 


CHAPTER X. 

OF THE PUBLIC SERVICE OF THE CHURCH. 

“ If two of you shall agree on earth as touching any thing that 
they shall ask, it shall be done for them of My Father which is 
in heaven ."— Matt, xviii. 19. 

The Charter of Public Worship contained in Matt, xviii. 19— 
functions of Public Worship devolved both by Dissenters and 
Romanists on the Clergy—Public Prayer in the Church of Rome 
resolves itself into a number of private prayers said in public— 
Private prayer and public essentially different—their respective 
charters examined—cordial agreement as to what should be asked 
an essential of public prayer—difficulty of securing this agreement 
without a Liturgy—defective practice of our Church while her 
theory is perfect—coldness of the service notwithstanding the beauty 
of the Liturgy—way to remedy this coldness—study the Services 
with a view of understanding them—specially the Psalms—set 

a 


xviii 


Contents. 


PAGB 

yourself against the tendency to think of nothing hut your own 
wants in public worship—great importance of making the responses 
audibly and heartily—strive to realize the presence of the Incar¬ 
nate God, which is covenanted in the Charter of Public Worship. 132 


CHAPTER XI. 

ON SELF-RECOLLECTEDNESS AND EJACULATORY 
PRAYER. 

" Pray without ceasing .”—1 Thess. v. 13. 

How we are to reconcile St. Luke’s notice of Our Lord s having 
ceased to pray with St. Paul’s precept, Pray without ceasing— 
Prayer the Christian’s breath of life—consists in (1) recollecting 
the mind, and (2) aspiring towards God—God ever present in the 
depth of our spirits—the refreshment of drawing ourselves into 
His presence from outward things—ejaculatory prayer, why called 
ejaculatory—illustration of the subject from the arrow which 
fetches down a bird—instance of the success of ejaculatory prayer 
in the history of Nchemiah—recognition of ejaculatory prayer in 
our Liturgy—Materials for ejaculatory prayer on ordinary occasions 
—our daily portion of Scripture—the Psalms—stated prayer cannot 
be dispensed with, even where ejaculatory is practised—this shown 
from the example of Our Lord, and from the comparison of prayers 
to respiration—encouragement, at the close of the second part* for 
those who are striving after a life of Sanctity and conscious of 
failure.. . 142 



Contents. 


xix 


fart ffl. 

Ef)c practical ILife. 


CHAPTER i. 

WHAT HOLDS US BACK. 

“ Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling. For it 
is God which worketh in you both to will and to do of His good 
pleasure.” — Phil. ii. 12, 13. 

PAGE 

Practical character of the work—the Reader interrogated as to 
his progress—What holds us back—necessity of recognizing the 
agency of the human will in the work of salvation—necessity of 
recognizing that sanctification is by grace—illustration from the 
probable causes of continued illness under a competent physician— 
two conditions which might defeat the progress of a rowing boat— 
necessity both of self-surrender and of trust in Christ—true faith 
embraces God’s commands with obedience—this shown from the 
history of Abraham—impossibility of sanctifying ourselves as great 
as that of justifying ourselves—means of Grace will disappoint us if 
we regard them as sources of Grace—in what sense the righteous¬ 
ness of sanctification is inherent in us, and in what sense not— 
illustration of the doctrine of this Chapter from the Baptismal 
Covenant—vow of self-surrender in Baptism—the free gift in 
Baptism . . „ . . . „ . . . . 151 


CHAPTER II. 

DO ALL FOR GOD. 

u And whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and not 
unto men.” —Col. iii. 23. 

The Christian’s practical life comprises three elements, working, 
fighting, and suffering—how to work devoutly—destiny of man, as 
an immortal being, contrasted with the earthliness of his pursuits^ 
apparent inconsistency between secular pursuits ana a heavenly 
calling—how monasticism arose from the feeling of this inconsis¬ 
tency—how the idea of this inconsistency is often insinuated in 
conversation, and at religious meetings—hypothesis of its being 
God’s will that all Christians should have a directly spiritual 
pursuit_absurdity to which the assumption leads—the only other 

a 2 



XX 


Contents. 


PAGE 

alternative—abide with God in your calling—how this is to be 
done—intention gives a moral character to actions—various inten¬ 
tions in secular pursuits enumerated—livelihood—distinction— 
natural distastefulness of a want of occupation—motive of duty— 
mechanical activity—the supernatural motive, Do it heartily as 
to the Lord—original reference of this precept to the duties of 
slaves—wisdom of this particular reference—inference from it— 
thoughts to be entertained before entering upon our daily work— 
renewal of our good intention at intervals—our lesser actions to 
be brought under the control of Christian principle—yet without 
indulging scruples of conscience—religious considerations which 
give elasticity of mind. .162 


CHAPTER III. 

ON MAINTAINING THE CONSCIOUSNESS OF GOD’S PRE¬ 
SENCE IN THE WORKS OF OUR CALLING. 

“ The Lord appeared to Abram, and said unto him , I am the 
Almighty God : walk before Me, and be thou perfect .”— Gen. 
xvii. 1. 

Realization of the Divine Presence, the nucleus round which the 
spiritual character forms itself—how may God’s presence be re¬ 
tained on the mind when our work itself is mental ?—undivided 
attention necessary to do any work well—proof that the conscious¬ 
ness of God’s Presence need not in terfere with active mental work 
—the mind actively engaged in an extempore address—yet in such 
an address the Speaker is never unconscious of the presence of 
his audience—means of cultivating a consciousness of the Divine 
Presence—Secret prayer at intervals during the day—three diffe¬ 
rent conceptions under which God’s Presence will present itself to 
different minds—habit of cultivating this consciousness gradually 
formed—quotation from St. Franqois de Sales—helps to realizing 
God’s presence in a rural walk—why nature impresses us so 
slightly—how thoughts of God’s Presence may be realized in the 
city—how the Incarnation connects the thoughts of God with 
human Society—lesson to be learnt from the original pursuit of 
St. Matthew.. 172 


CHAPTER IV. 

OF INTERRUPTIONS IN OUR WORK, AND THE WAY TC 
DEAL WITH THEM. 

u We are created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God 
hath before ordained that we should walk in them .”— Eph. 
ii. 10. 

The doing work earnestly for God and in God will make inter¬ 
ruptions very harassing—subject of the Chapter proposed—when 




Contents. 


xxi 


PAGE 

troubled by interruptions, we must copy tbe mind of Christ, as it 
transpires (1) in His discourses—which are not set and formal, but 
lake their rise from some object of nature or incident which He 
comes across—the contexture of Our Lord’s discourses not syste¬ 
matic in the usual sense of the word—the intellectual method and 
the method of charity—(2) in His life—apparent want of plan in it 
—this illustrated from Matthew ix—God has a plan of life for each 
one of us, and occasions of doing or receiving good mapped out for 
each in His Eternal Counsels—little incidents, as well as great 
crises of life, are under the control of God’s Providence—Events 
have a voice for us, if we will listen to it—Let us view our inter¬ 
ruptions as part of God’s plan for us—We may receive good, even 
where we cannot do good—It is self-will which weds us so to our 
own plans,a nd makes us resent interference with them—the true 
notion of God’s Providence illustrated—Let us endeavour to sub¬ 
serve His designs for us . . .181 


CHAPTER V. 

FIGHT WISELY. 

“ So fight I, not as one that beateth the air ”— 1 Cor. ix. 26. 

Second element in the Christian's practical life, his resistance to 
temptations—Satan’s policy must be opposed by policy—want of 
definite aim in resisting temptations a cause of failure—the beset- 
ing sin and its deceitfulness—Vanity masked by an affected 
humility—under honourable emulation—Indolence masked under 
Borne more superficial sin—usual sensitiveness of men on the weak 
points of their moral character—in strong characters the ruling 
passion is more obvious—hints for discovering besetting sin—in 
what direction do the results of self-examination point?—What 
occurrences give us pain and pleasure?—having found the beset¬ 
ting sin, bend the whole strength of your will against it—the 
noiseless current of the bosom sin is always setting on a shoal—A 
glimpse of God’s love and grace necessary to counteract the depres¬ 
sion which results from self-knowledge.191 


CHAPTER YI. 

ON THE NATURE OF TEMPTATION. 

tl Then was Jesus .... tempted of the devil ”— Matt. iv. 1. 

Brightness and cheerfulness of mind necessary to spiritual con¬ 
quests—depression under temptation often arises from misappre¬ 
hension of its nature—the eagle training her young to fly, an 
emblem of the way in which God disciplines His children—typical 
character of Israel’s pilgrimage in the wilderness—the beginner in 
religion baffled by a host of temptations—special temptation which 
besets prayer—and Holy Communion—our non-abandonment of 



XXII 


Contents. 


PAGF 

the struggle an augury that God has not forsaken us—discomfort 
arising from mistakes on the nature of temptation—temptation 
cannot become sin till the will consents to it—nor is it always a 
sign of a sinful nature—this proved by Our Lord’s temptation—and 
by the trial of Abraham’s faith—guilt arising from the corruption 
of our nature removed by Baptism—the doctrine of this Chapter 
applied to temptations in prayer—honour put by Christ upon 
prayer under discouragement—heaviness resulting from the con¬ 
sciousness of many sinful inclinations—the blessedness and dignity 
of manifold temptations—God offers to a soul beset by them an 
eminence in the Divine Life.200 


CHAPTER VII. 

TIGHT WITH THE WEAPON OF DISTRUST IN 
SELF. 

" And in the fourth watch of the night Jesus went unto them, 
walking on the sea. And when the disciples saw Him walking 
on the sea, they were troubled, saying, It is a spirit; and they 
cried out for fear. But straightway Jesus spake unto them, 
saying, Be of good cheer; It is I , be not afraid. And Peter 
answered Him and said, Lord, if it be Thou, bid me come unto 
Thee on the water. And He said, Come. And when Peter was 
come down out of the ship, he walked on the water to go to 
Jesus. But when he saw the wind boisterous, he was afraid . 
and beginning to sink, he cried saying, Lord, save me. And 
immediately Jesus stretched forth His hand, and caught him , 
and said unto him, 0 thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou 
doubt?” —Matt. xiv. 25—31. 

Harmony of Scripture characters with themselves, and argument 
thence arising in favour of their authenticity—Rehearsal before¬ 
hand of St. Peter’s trial and fall—critical temptations occur but 
seldom—small ones not to be despised, as being a previous re¬ 
hearsal of great ones—little temptations an excellent discipline 
of humility—instances in which great Saints have broken down 
in their characteristic grace, and the moral discipline of humility 
likely to be brought out of such failures—self-trust a certain 
source of failure—it often lurks under disgust with self—how 
the abnegation of self-trust is connected with elasticity of mind in 
the spiritual combat—how trust in Christ is taught in the nar¬ 
rative before us—never look temptations full in the face—look 
away from them to Christ, who is to conquer in you—weaken 
the affection for sin by filling the mind with the thought, and 
the heart with the love, of Christ—Satan’s strongest assault pos¬ 
sibly reserved for the last—terrors of the last conflict parallel with 
those of the disciples in the boat—let us nerve ourselves by faith¬ 
fulness in lesser trials for this last conflict ..... 209 


Contents. 


xxiii 


CHAPTER VIII. 

FIGHT WATCHFULLY. 

“ Keep thy heart with all diligence; for out of it are the issues 
of life.” —Prov. iv. 23. 

PAG s 

The great force of the expression. Keep thy heart above all 
keeping —necessity for keeping the heart, arising from the fact 
that it is the key of the spiritual position—the traitors within the 
fortress—the immense fertility of our thoughts and feelings a 
reason for watchfulness — variety of emotions in conversation — 
solitude offers as many temptations as company—let us pause at 
intervals, and make our thoughts give up their passport—what must 
he done when derangements of the heart are discovered—spiritual 
life carried on by many fresh starts—The necessity of resisting 
evil when first presented to the Imagination—prayer must be 
mixed with watchfulness In order to success—prayer the expression 
of our entire dependence upon God—great difficulty of keeping 
the heart should teach us this dependence—the peace which results 
from Christ’s indwelling in the heart—The peace in the stable of 
the inn of Bethlehem.218 


CHAPTER IX. 

THE HIGH PREROGATIVE OF SUFFERING. 

“ Verily, verily, 1 say unto thee, When thou wast young, thou 
girdedst thyself, and walkedst whither thou wouldest: but 
when thou shall be old, thou shalt stretch forth thy hands, and 
another shall gird thee, and carry thee whither thou wouldest 
not. This spake He signifying by what death he should glorify 
God. And when He had spoken this, He sailh unto him, Follow 
Me.” — John xxi. 18, 19. 

Our Lord’s prediction of the manner of St. Peter’s death—how 
the words may be applied generally as a parable of human life in 
youth and old age—suffering the third element in the practical life 
of the Christian—regard suffering as a vocation—even when plans 
of religious usefulness are disconcerted by it—illustration from a 
wise general’s conduct of a campaign—what has been said applies 
to the little plans of daily life as well as to our prospects on a large 
scale—trial of interruptions—example of Our Lord when inter¬ 
rupted—suffering the highest of all vocations, as being (usually) the 
last—St. Peter’s death the time when he specially glorified God— 
death the climax of sufferings—Even in natural character trial 
brings out unsuspected graces—Suffering conforms us to Christ— 

His virtues emphatically the passive ones—death of Christ expresses 
more of His Divine Character than His life—In what sense He was 




XXIV 


Contents. 


TAGE 

made perfect through sufferings—Christ’s call to us to follow Him 
—the meaning of the words, “ Take up the Cross”—Do not de¬ 
spise little daily crosses 227 


CHAPTER X. 

OF RECREATION. 

“ Whether therefore ye eat , or drink , or whatsoever ye do, do 
alt to the glory of God .”—1 Cor. x. 31. 

An anecdote of St. John the Evangelist—every true repre¬ 
sentation of life must embrace its lighter as well as its more 
sombre passages—religion designed to leaven our whole life— 
analogy between Recreation and Sleep—we caunot afford to lose 
a single waking moment of our time—no waking moment morally 
indifferent—admission that recreation must be an unbending— 
recreation may be, and must be, directed by our minds to the 
glory of God—a passage of Scripture which implies this—What 
should be our intention in taking recreation, expressed in words— 

As to their form, Recreations must be innocent (not necessarily 
useful)—and innocent to us —experimental knowledge of our own 
moral temperament—amusements should be amusing—burden¬ 
someness of many (so-called) amusements—ordinary dulness of 
conversation—what remedies can be applied?—every mind has an 
interest somewhere—occasional toilsomeness of foreign travel— 
and its cause—even in variety we should seek a unity of plan—a 

good education should comprise some lighter subjects of study_ 

refreshment to the mind of even a slight knowledge of Nature_ 

“Consider the lilies of the field”—avoid excess in recreations_ 

long periods of leisure should pay the tax of additional devotion_ 

general importance of the subject of recreation, from its influence 
on the mind . ..237 



Contents. 


xxv 


?att IF* 
Supplemental. 


CHAPTER i. 

ON THE WISDOM AND COMFORT OF LOOKING NO FUR¬ 
THER THAN THE PRESENT DAY IN OUR SERVICE OF 
GOD. 

“ He that is faithful in that which is least, is faithful also in 
much .”— Luke xvi. 10. 


TAGE 

Wisdom of limiting the field of research in the pursuit of 
knowledge—wisdom of beginning from one centre in the practical 
life of the Christian—the general principle applied to our time— 
the natural divisions of time—the day the least of them—the day 
a miniature of the whole life—illustration from a convex mirror— 
passages of Scripture implying that the day is the rudiment of the 
life—our provisions meted out by the day—our anxieties to be 
limited by the day—forethought allowed within the horizon of the 
day—our purposes to he limited by the same horizon—difficulty 
of so limiting them—the morning a miniature of youth—how much 
depends upon the way in which the morning hour is spent—entrance 
upon the business of the day compared to entrance upon the business 
of life—little crosses of the day compared to the great trials of 
life—consolatory prospect of the evening hour of devotion, if we 
maintain patience and watchfulness—Resemblance of Sleep to 
Death—and of rising to Resurrection—Look to it that the days be 
well spent; for they make up our life—But if we have thrown 
away (for all spiritual purposes) many days, still there is a pos¬ 
sibility of redeeming the time—how this may be done—let to¬ 
morrow begin a new era with us .. 247 


CHAPTER II. 

OF UNITY OF EFFORT IN THE SERVICE OF GOD. 

“ Thou art careful and troubled about many things: but one 
thing is needful.” —Luke x. 41, 42. 

Simplicity and depth of the words of Our Lord illustrated by the 
depth of a pellucid stream—necessity of peace in endeavour, as 


XXVI 


Contents. 


PAGE 

well as of peace in the consciousness of acceptance—desirableness 
of having one single principle at the foundation of our spiritual 
character—how is this to be reconciled with the obligation of 
fulfilling all God’s commandments?—the way in which Christian 
virtues hang together—prominence of a particular feature in all 
natural characters, and of a particular grace in all spiritual charac¬ 
ters—growth in Nature proceeds from one nucleus—application of 
the principle—bend your efforts to the eradication of the bosom sin 
—other graces will form themselves while this process goes on— 
Choose one maxim as the foundation of the spiritual character— 
“Hallowed be thy Name”—what God’s Name includes—“Blessed 
are the poor in spirit”—the principle chosen should not be too 
narrow, so as to give rare scope for acting upon it—nor too broad, 
so as to include (virtually) many principles—it should lie in a line 
of thought to which we are naturally drawn—Cultivate quietness 
of mind as a great secret of success in spiritual endeavour—how 
this quietness may be had even under the consciousness of falls . 257 

CHAPTER III. 

OF THE WAT IN WHICH WE SHOULD SEEK TO 
EDIFY OTHERS. 

“ Let your light so shine before men , that they may see your 
good ivorks, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.” 
—Matt. v. 16 . 

A desire to do good to others is the very spot of God’s children 
>—this desire often directed in wrong channels—the history of 
schism—misdirected desire to edify—its mischievous results—fun¬ 
damental passage on which the duty of Edification is built— 
Sermon on the Mount a perfect code of Christian duty—danger 
of applying indiscriminately words spoken to the Apostles, or to 
individuals under peculiar circumstances—“ Let your light shine 
before men” explained from the context—do nothing to hide your 
Christian profession—Our Lord speaks of edification by example— 
and does not recommend even this for the sake of edification — 
every light must shine unless you cover it up—danger of indis¬ 
criminate religious admonition—as an assumption (which may be 
groundless) of religious superiority—as being most often a failure 
in point of result—as being a display of spiritual feeling, which 
may be mischievous to this delicate plant—How we may edify 
others—Live close to God, and strive to do all actions as unto 
Him—never lower your principles to the world’s standard—aim 
at appearing just what you are, neither better, nor worse—eschew 
affectation in every form.266 


CHAPTER IV. 

IN WHAT THE SPIRITUAL LIFE CONSISTS. 

“ And He opened His mouth , and taught them , saying , Blessed 
are the poor in spirit: for their's is the kingdom of heaven. 


Contents. 


XXVll 


Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted. 
Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth. Blessed 
are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for 
they shall be filled. Blessed are the merciful ; for they shall 
obtain mercy. Blessed are the jmre in heart: for they shall 
see God. Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be 
called the children of God. Blessed are they which are per¬ 
secuted for righteousness f sake, for their's is the kingdom of 
heaven.” —Matt. v. 2—10. 

PAGE 

The author’s excuse for introducing this subject at so late a 
period of the work—In what the Spiritual Life does not consist—. 

.Not in ordinances—ordinances the means of kindling the flame or 
of feeding it, but not the flame—the gai’dener’s tools not the life of 
the tree—our unhappy tendency to confound means with ends— 
Monasticism assumes that the Spiritual Life consists in ordinances 
—Scripture, where it touches on the vitals of religion, omits all 
mention of ordinance—the Spiritual life does not consist of actions 
—the fruit is not the life—View of religion as mere usefulness 
congenial to the English mind—Spiritual life does not consist in 
activities—religious activity of the present day—we all catch the 
spirit of it—our natural zest for work quickened by the disgust of 
young and earnest minds with the controversial extravagances of the 
day—the mischievous tendency of this result—Christian practice 
supposed to be separable from Christian doctrine—in what the 
Spiritual life does consist—answers from Scripture—it is internal 
—not even private prayer is the spiritual life, independently of the 
mind with which it is offered—it is supernatural —the application 
of this term justified—it is developed amid trial and opposition — 
this illustrated by the beatitudes of meekness and mercy—the first 
beatitude gives the fundamental grace of the Christian character— 
application of these various criteria in self-examination . . .274 


CHAPTER V. 

THAT OUR STUDY OF GOD’S TRUTH MUST EE WITH 
THE HEART. 

“ But even unto this day , when Moses is read, the vail is upon 
their heart. Nevertheless when it shall turn to the Lord, the 
vail shall be taken away.” —2 Cor. iii. 15, 16. 

Jewish blindness resulted from a predisposition not to believe— 

In what form the truth is recognized that a man’s judgment is 
liable to be prejudiced by his inclinations—non-recognition of this 
truth in the attempt of heathen philosophers to persuade men to 
virtue—the method of Socrates—historically Christianity began 
with an appeal to the affections- the doctrine of the Gospel makes 
the same appeal—Moral effect which the story of Christ’s death is 
likely to produce—justifying faith shown to be an operation of the 
heart—every forward step in the spiritual life must be made with 
the heart—the necessity of “unction” to effective preaching—study 



xxviii 


Contents. 


PAGE 

of Scripture too often drops into a mere intellectual exercise— 
snare of the interest which attaches to Scripture in a literary point 
of view—the saving truths are the simplest—study chiefly Christ 
crucified, who is the centre of God’s revelation .... 284 


CHAPTER YI. 

OX LINING EY EXILE. 

“ Upon the first day of the week let every one of you lay by 
him in store, as God hath prospered him, that there be no 
gatherings when I come.” —1 Cor. xvi. 2. 

Discrepancy between the general tone of New Testament precept, 
and the passage at the head of the Chapter—wisdom of St. Paul’s 
rule on the subject of almsgiving—impossibility of adapting the 
rule to all circumstances — general dearth of rules in the New 
Testament pointed out, and accounted for—morning and evening 
private prayer, and public worship on Sunday regarded as a sort 
of law of conscience—nature furnishes materials for all the arts 
of life—as Scripture furnishes principles for all rules of holy 
living—this analogy worked out—each Christian to frame rules 
for himself—grave responsibility of keeping the soul—and the 
necessity thence arising for a wise rule and method of life—rules 
must be adapted to our temperament and circumstances—rules 
urgently required in the matter of almsgiving — specific reso¬ 
lutions recommended, framed on a foresight of the trials of the 
day—rules should be made a help, not a penance .... 294 


CHAPTER VII. 

OF THE MISCHIEF AND DAN GEE OF EXAGGEEATIONS 
IN EELIGION. 

“ Let us prophesy according to the proportion of faith.” 

Rom. xii. 6. 

A comparison from the writings of Lord Bacon—morbid ten¬ 
dency of the human mind to caricature the truths presented to it— 
all heresy a caricature of truth—this instanced in the erroneous 
views of the Quaker—and in those of some modern divines, who 
magnify God’s Love at the expense of His Justice—spiritual writers 
often put a strain upon favourite precepts of the Gospel—the 
maxim of St. Franqois de Sales and the Quictists, by which they 
caricature the grace of resignation—naturalness of character in the 
scriptural Saints—traces of it in St. Paul—in order to keep the 
mind free from exaggerations, read Scripture copiously—candidly 
—and giving full weight to those parts which do not naturally 
attract you—imbue the mind with it ... J 304 


Contents . 


xxix 


CHAPTER VIII. 

OF THE GEE AT YAEIETY OF MEN’S CHAEACTEES IN 
THE CHTJECH OF CHEIST. 

“ -As the body is one, and hath many members, and all the mem¬ 
bers of that one body, being many, are one body; so also is 
Christ .”— 1 Cor. xii. 12. 

PAGE 

rlie various extraordinary gifts of the early Church came from 
tiic same author, and work together to the same end—variety in 
unity the law of nature—agency of the same laws of nature in 
distinct spheres—great variety in Holy Scripture—the unity of 
Holy Scripture traced from its earlier to its later books—same 
feature of variety in unity to be expected in the Church of Christ 
—the supernatural gifts have most of them some natural endow¬ 
ment which corresponds with them—difference of character and 
endowments in St. Peter, St. Paul, St. John, and other Scriptural 
Saints—religious experience of different Christians widely different 
—conversions of a wholly different kind recorded on the same page 
of Scripture—our method of serving God will differ with our 
capacities and position—lesson of charity towards those who take a 
different line of religious thought from ourselves—each Christian 
designed to be an original specimen of redeeming love and grace . 312 


CHAPTER IX. 

OF THE IDEA OF SACEIFICE, AS PEEYADING THE 
cheistian’s LIFE. 

“An holy priesthood, to offer up spiritual sacrifices, acceptable to 
God by Jesus Christ .”—1 Pet. ii. 5. 

All forms of religion have involved the idea of sacrifice—this 
perhaps traceable to the lingering tradition of Noah’s sacrifice after 
the flood—instinct of the human heart which instigates men to 
sacrifice analyzed—hold which the idea has of the mind, shown 
by the system of Romanism—the sacrifice of Christ, which is the 
central doctrine of our religion, comprehends the sweet-savour 
offering of His Life, and the sin-offering of His Death—fundamental 
difference of these two offerings explained—Christ our altar—God 
still requires from Christians the sweet-savour though not the sin- 
offering—the offering of the body as a living sacrifice—of praise— 
of alms—how all these three offerings are recognized in the Com¬ 
munion Service—possibility of offering an acceptable sacrifice an 
encouraging thought—privilege of being allowed to please God by 
an acceptable tribute—self-oblation should form part of our morn¬ 
ing’s devotion, and the spirit of it should pervade our common 
actions—materials of an acceptable offering always at hand—but no 
offering can be acceptable independently of the mediation and in¬ 
tercession of Christ, Who is the true altar 322 


XXX 


Contents. 


CHAPTER X. 

OF ALLOWING IN OUR MINDS A PREPONDERANCE TO 
TRIFLES. 

« Woe unto you, Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites 1 for ye pay 
tithe of mint and anise and cummin, and have omitted the 
weightier matters of the law, judgment, mercy, and faith: these 
ought ye to have done, and not to leave the other undone .”— 
Matt, xxiii. 23. 

PAGE 

Attention to little duties continually recommended in this 
treatise—and why—ordinary life made up of little things—great 
crises occur comparatively seldom—Kven duties not moral but 
ceremonial (such as reverent postures in prayer) have their im¬ 
portance—making the responses—attention to little things may 
degenerate into scrupulosity—case of the Pharisees—two opposite 
habits of mind as regards little things imported by men into their 
religion—punctiliousness in small matters quite consistent with 
the neglect of greater—the comparative insignificance of ritual and 
antiquarian controversies, and of the decoration of Churches— 
formalities often adhered to by those who profess to disregard forms 
—how the spirit of Religion may be allowed to evaporate, while 
formal regulations are observed—formal restraints as to amusement 
—formal observance of Sunday—While you use rules as a help, 
keep your eye fixed on the spirit and principle of them—Love to 
God and man the fulfilling of the whole Law—view all other 
things as they stand related to these two great objects . . .331 


CHAPTER XI. 

OF IMPROVING OUR TALENTS. 

“ For the kingdom of heaven is as a man travelling into a far 
country, who called his own servants, and delivered unto them 
his goods. And unto one he gave five talents, to another two, 
and to another one; to every man according to his several 
ability: and straightway took his journey. 

“ Then he which had received the one talent came and said, 
Lord, I knew thee that thou art an hard man, reaping where 
thou hast not sown, and gathering where thou hast not 
strawed: and I was afraid, and went and hid thy talent in 
the earth: lo, there thou hast that is thine. His Lord an~ 
swered and said unto him, Thou wicked and slothful servant, 
thou knewest that I reap where I sowed not, and gather where 
I have not strawed: thou oughtest therefore to have put my 
•money to the exchangers, and then at my coming I should have 
received mine own with usury . 11 — Matt xxv. 14, 15. 2* 
-27. 


Contents. 


xxxi 


PAGE 

Misapprehensions 'which might arise from the moral of the 
Parable of the Virgins—how the Parable of the Talents corrects 
them—the character indicated by the slothful servant—shrinking 
from the pastoral responsibility in those qualified for it—ordination 
by constraint in the early Church—scantiness of endowments a 
plea for not improving them—the phrase “ according to his ability” 
explained—St. Paul endowed with ten talents—his improvement 
of them—St. Barnabas’s one talent—his improvement of it—how 
St. Barnabas might have acted like the slothful servant—men 
largely endowed are not generally slothful, and why—the majority 
mediocre—what motives induce the slenderly endowed to be sloth¬ 
ful—What is the one talent entrusted to me?—conjectures as to 
what itmay be—How may I gain from it the largest interest?—hard 
thoughts of God lie at the root of unfruitfulness in religion—Ho 
never calls us to a standard of duty for which He is not ready to 
qualify us—in proportion to the burden laid upon us He gives 
more grace . .340 


CHAPTER XII. 

OF THE INTERIOR LIFE. 

“ Then shall the kingdom of heaven be likened unto ten virgins, 
which took their lamps, and went forth to meet the bridegroom. 
And five of them were wise , and five were foolish. They that 
were foolish took their lamps, and took no oil with them: but 
the wise took oil in their vessels with their lamps. While the 
bridegroom tarried, they all slumbered and slept. And at 
midnight there was a cry made, Behold, the bridegroom 
cometh ; go ye out to meet him. Then all those virgins arose, 
and trimmed their lamps. And the foolish said unto the wise, 
Give us of your oil; for our lamps are gone out. But the 
wise answered, saying, Not so; lest there be not enough for us 
and you: but go ye rather to them that sell, and buy for your¬ 
selves. And while they went to buy, the bridegroom came; 
and they that were ready went in with him to the marriage; 
and the door was shut. Afterward came also the other vir¬ 
gins, saying, Lord, Lord, open to us. But he answered and 
said, Verily I say unto you, I know you not. Watch therefore, 
for ye know neither the day nor the hour wherein the Son of 
man cometh .”— Matt. xxv. 1 — 13. 

We recur in this Chapter to the fundamental idea of the treatise 
—the Prophecy on the Mount—solemn period of its delivery— 
the tetralogy of Parables, which closes the Prophecy—the Virgins 
are those who correspond fervently with the grace originally be¬ 
stowed on them—the flame of hope and earnest expectation— 
what kept it burning in the early Church—delay of the Second 
.Advent, and discrimination of character resulting therefrom—• 
religion passes into a matter of principle—modern Christians often 




XXX11 


Contents. 


PAGE 

go on upon the stock of their early religious impressions—decay in 
them of the interior life of faith—how defectiveness in the Sermons 
of the day may contribute to such decay—conversion (not edifi¬ 
cation) regarded as the business of the pulpit—the emblems of the 
light and the oil explained—so much grace expended on the 
outward life of the Christian, just as so much oil is expended in 
keeping a light burning—Prayer tire means of securing a reserve 
of oil—Yet not stated prayer, but that which mixes itself up with 
all our actions—how in the midst of active service we may secure 
fresh supplies of grace—necessity of spiritual industry in order to 
perseverance—our treatise a protest in favour of the interior life . 351 


PART I. 


INTRODUCTORY. 


CHAPTER I. 

ON THE LOW STANDARD OF PERSONAL RELIGION NOW 
PREVALENT, AND THE CAUSES OF IT. 

“ A certain man drew a bow at a venture , and smote 
the king of Israel between the joints of the harness .”— 
1 Kings xxii. 34. 

No one, however well satisfied he may be with the 
intellectual and moral progress of the age in which we 
live, can look abroad upon the state of the Church in 
this country, without gathering from the survey a 
painful impression that the standard of Personal Re¬ 
ligion among us is miserably low. Doubtless there is 
a great deal of talk upon the subject of religion. And 
doubtless, also, as the candid observer will not hesitate 
to confess, there is something better and deeper than 
talk,—a certain excitement of the public mind, a 
general sensation on the subject, which indeed is the 
reason of its being so much discussed. The interest of 
all classes is alive about religion ; a delightful contrast 
indeed with the torpid state of things which Wesley 
and Whitefield found, when they were first visited with 
serious convictions, and from which they were God’s 
instruments for recovering both the Church and the 
sects. Rut this general interest in the many is quite 
consistent with a very low standard of religious attain- 



2 On the Low Standard of Personal Religion [part 

ment in individuals,—low, I mean, in comparison of 
what might be expected from the motive power which 
the Gospel brings to bear upon the heart. 

Let it be considered that God cannot be guilty of 
the folly of employing a stupendous machinery to 
achieve an insignificant result, or a result which might 
be achieved, and has been achieved, in another manner. 
And then let it be observed how stupendous the 
machinery is, which Christianity brings to bear upon 
the human heart; that the force employed to sanctify 
that heart is, if I may say so, the whole force of God,— 
the force of motive derived from the Incarnation and 
Resurrection, the force of principle derived from the 
descent of the Holy Ghost. Let it be remembered 
that it is the repeatedly declared design of this ex¬ 
penditure of power to make men meet for the inhe¬ 
ritance of the saints in light,—in other words, to 
sanctify or make saints of them. And then let us 
turn, and look about us, and ask where are the saints ? 
Is Christianity producing among us the fruits, which 
God, when He planted it in the soil of the earth, 
designed it to produce ? To many questions respecting 
our moral condition, we can perhaps give a satisfactory 
answer. If you ask where is integrity, where is 
amiability, where is social worth, where is attendance 
upon the ordinances of religion, where are almsdeeds 
and charitable institutions, we can produce our in¬ 
stances. But be it remembered that many, if not all, 
of these fruits can be borne by unregenerate human 
nature. The annals of heathenism record numerous 
instances of integrity and even ascetic self-denial among 
the philosophers, and many others of a high moral tone 
and a brilliant disinterestedness among the people at 
large. Nay, is it not notorious that there were among 
the heathen, men in whom the religious instinct was 
strongly awakened, men of earnest minds who looked 
forward with vague apprehension, not however un¬ 
mixed with hopes of release, to that future life, of 
which they caught a glimpse ever and anon from the 
flickering and uncertain ray of the light of Nature? 


3 


I.] now prevalent, and the Causes of it. 

But Christian saintliness must surely go beyond this, 
as being the product of much higher agencies. And 
where is Christian saintliness among us? Without 
denying its existence, it may be yet said that none of 
the instances we can show of it are of a high caste. 

Indeed, is it not the case that there is a singular 
analogy between the present state of knowledge and 
of piety,—that in this age literature and religion fare 
much alike ? In what were called the dark ages, 
literature was the monopoly of the few; gross igno¬ 
rance was the condition of the.many. There were some 
monks and priests who represented all the erudition 
of their times, and were great luminaries of learning. 
And much later than the dark ages, while printing was 
in its childhood, and the helps to knowledge few or 
none, you meet with men who were great repositaries 
of the literature of the day, giants of intellectual re¬ 
source. It is not so any longer. Every one knows 
a little; few know much; and fewer still know pro¬ 
foundly ; they have drawn what they know, not from 
the fountain-head, but from commentaries, and ab¬ 
stracts, and summaries, and indices, and other hooks 
whose province is to make the attainment of know¬ 
ledge cheap and easy. Is it not the same with piety ? 
The great saints of primitive (nay of mediieval) times 
stand out like stars in the firmament of the Church, 
all the brighter for the darkness of heathenism or of 
superstition which surrounds them. But the tendency 
of modern times has been to diffuse among many the 
piety which was once concentrated in the few. The 
public are religious as a public, but in individuals the 
salt has lost its savour. Every body can speak volubly 
upon controversial subjects; but where are the men, 
upon whose heart the Truth, which is at stake in con¬ 
troversies, is making every day, by means of prayer 
and meditation, a deeper imprint ? 

If any remedy is to be applied to this state of 
things, it is plain that we must first set ourselves to 
inquire into its causes. And in conducting this in¬ 
quiry, it is natural to turn our eyes in the first place 
b 2 


4> On the Low Standard of Personal Peligion [part 

to the Christian Ministry, as at present exercised in 
this country. If the results of the Gospel are not 
what they should be, it is probable that there are some 
defects in the instrumentality which it condescends to 
employ. If saints be not made by the great system, 
may it not be that the means of working it are out of 
order? Now we are distinctly told that God’s great 
instrumentality for the sanctification and salvation of 
souls is the ministry of the Word ; “ He gave some, 
Apostles ; and some, prophets ; and some, evangelists ; 
and some, pastors and teachers;” (for what end?) 
"for the perfecting of the saints , for the work of the 
ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ : till 
we all come in the unity of the faith, and of the 
knowledge of the Son of God, unto a perfect man , unto 
the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ.” 
Stripping this passage of its beautiful inspired phraseo¬ 
logy, and dropping its reference to those miraculous 
gifts which have now passed away, its gist and upshot 
is this, that the ministry of God’s Word is the great 
appointed means for the perfecting of the saintly or 
Christ-like character in man. Is there then any flaw 
in our ministry, which may in some measure account 
for the low standard of Personal Peligion, on which 
we have been commenting ? We fear there is. We 
believe that the Christian Ministry having, by God’s 
design and constitution, two arms wherewith to do its 
work, one of these arms has become paralyzed by in¬ 
activity. We believe that its office (as regards the 
Word of God) being twofold, to rouse consciences, and 
to guide them, we have for a long time past in the 
National Church (and probably it is the same with the 
sects) contented ourselves with rousing, while we have 
done scarcely any thing to guide them. The one 
object of all our teaching, whether in formal sermons or 
in books, has been to make impressions, not to give 
them a right direction when made. The sermon is 
thrown every Sunday into the midst of the people, 
very much as the arrow which found out King Ahab 
was darted into the host of Israel, to take its chance 


I.] now prevalent, and the Causes of it. 5 

amid the thousand arrows which on that day were 
winging their flight to and fro. Often, no doubt, the 
grace and providence of God directs the shaft to the 
right quarter, causes it to reach some sinner’s con¬ 
science, through the joints of a harness of insensibility 
and indifference, and to rankle there in real and abiding 
convictions. But the misfortune is, that where such 
an effect is really produced, both minister and people 
seem to think, judging from their conduct, that the 
work in that particular case has gone quite far enough. 
The impression having been made is thenceforth left to 
itself; the working power being there, it is assumed 
that it will work, without any further pains on our 
part. The minister prepares a similar stirring appeal 
for other consciences; and the people acquiesce in a 
religion of good emotions, as if these emotions were 
sanctity itself, and not rather something to begin and go 
on upon,—the primary impulse in the life-long pursuit 
of sanctity. And thus the good impressions are allowed 
to run to waste, and no real ground is gained by them. 

We have said that a low standard and a wide 
diffusion seem to be the law to which both religion 
and education are subjected in the present day. And 
perhaps there may be, when we come to look closely, 
a similar defect in the instrumentality employed by 
both. Popular lectures are one of the great agencies 
employed in the spread of knowledge. It is the 
object of these lectures to put in a lively and attractive 
form so much of the subject as is agreeable and 
entertaining, and to hide away all the abstruse re¬ 
search, or the abstruse reasoning, by which the results 
are arrived at. The lecturer is considered to have 
gained his point if he has skilfully dressed a rather 
spare dish of knowledge with the garniture of amuse¬ 
ment, and sent away his audience pleased and tickled 
with the conceit of having caught a cursory insight 
into the bearings of his subject. But as they have 
never grappled with the elements of the study, the 
new facts or ideas conveyed to them are forgotten 
almost as soon as acquired. Whatever advantages 


6 On the Low Standard of Personal Beligion [part 

such a system may have, it is certain that no scholar 
was ever made by it. For even now (notwithstanding 
our intellectual advance) there is no royal road to 
knowledge; and those who would really and truly 
know must still submit to the condition of laborious 
and gradual discipline; “ line upon line, precept upon 
precept, here a little, and there a little.” 

But do not the great majority even of good and 
useful sermons resemble in their principles and objects 
these popular lectures ? Do not those sermons 
especially resemble them, which it is now the fashion 
to preach to the masses, and from which we expect 
some great results, as if they were the one religious 
agency of the day? If we were to define modern 
sermons as “popular expositions of Holy Scripture, 
with a warm and stirring application to men’s con¬ 
sciences,” should we go far wrong ? They are de¬ 
signed to make, and often (under Grace) they do 
make, wholesome impressions of a spiritual character, 
and the people who are touched by them go away 
pleased, thinking “they have got good.” And good 
they have got, no doubt; but then it is good which is 
not followed up. If the good should go in some cases 
as far as real conversion, or change of will, there seems 
to be no provision for edification, that is, for building 
on the foundation thus laid. They have been exhorted 
to religion; hut they have not been instructed in it. 
There is in our exercise of the ministry no systematic 
plan on which people are taught, and brought on 
gradually towards “ the measure of the stature of the 
fulness of Christ.” And the results are most mis¬ 
chievous. Piety degenerates into a series of shallow 
emotions, which evaporate in the absence of stirring 
appeals to the conscience. The souls of our people 
become like Bethesda’s pool. Periodically they are 
impregnated with an healing influence; “an angel 
goeth down into the pool, and troubleth the water.” 
But, alas! the virtue of the stirring is but momentary; 
the dregs quickly fall again to the bottom, and the water 
becomes dead, stagnant, and unprofitable as before. 


7 


i*.l now prevalent, and the Causes of it. 

Thus we seem to have found that one of the causes 
of the low standard of Personal Religion among us, is 
probably the want of any definite direction of con¬ 
science, after it has been once awakened. If we carry 
our inquiry still further back, and ask the reasons why 
this part of the ministerial work has been neglected, 
we shall probably find that it is owing to reactions 
from a state of things wrong in itself. Before the 
Reformation, the confessional existed as a living power 
in the Church; it exists still in the communion of the 
Church of Rome. Frightful as are the evils and 
abuses inseparably connected with the system of 
regular compulsory confession, there was at least this 
advantage connected with it, that under such a system 
the minister could not forget the duty imposed upon 
him of directing the awakened conscience. Counsel he 
must perforce give, counsel practical and definite for 
the eradication of those sins, the avowal of which was 
poured weekly into his ear. The Protestant clergy¬ 
man on the other hand, confined to the pulpit, is 
thereby, of course, thrown back to a much greater 
distance from the minds of his flock. He does not 
know, and cannot know, except in those very rare 
cases, where a revelation of such things is voluntarily 
tendered to him, what is the nature of their difficulties, 
or the quarter in which their trials lie. Hence arises 
a temptation (though surely not a necessity) to do as 
the certain man in the passage above referred to did, 
to let fly his word of counsel without any definite aim, 
to be general and vague' both in doctrine and exhorta¬ 
tion. And it is well if the generality and vagueness 
do not go so far as to become unreality, if the por¬ 
traitures of the believer and unbeliever are not so 
overcharged as that no man really resembles either of 
them, and if consequently the discourse, being meant 
for nobody in particular, does not fare worse than the 
death-shaft of Ahab, and hit nobody in particular. 
But why, because we rightly reject the odious system 
of the confessional, are we to abandon the attempt to 
direct the human conscience from the pulpit, or from 



8 On the Low Standard of Personal Religion [paet 

the press ? The Apostles had no confessionals. And 
yet were not the Apostles ever making such attempts 
as we speak of ? What is the nature of the Apostolic 
Epistles ? Are they not all addresses to believers in 
Christ, whose consciences had already received the 
'primary impulse of true religion, with the view of 
guiding them in their perplexities, confirming them in 
their convictions, forewarning them against their tempt¬ 
ations, encouraging them in their troubles, explaining 
to them their difficulties, and generally building them 
up in their most holy faith? And are not the 
Apostolical Epistles the great model of what stated 
Christian teaching in a Christian country should be ?—- 
a process, be it observed, widely different from the 
evangelizing of the heathen, and recognized as different 
in the great baptismal commission given by our Loud 
in the last verses of St. Matthew’s Gospel, where He 
bids His Apostles first “ teach” as a preliminary to 
baptism ,—teach with the view of making disciples,— 
and subseguently to baptism “ teach” the converts so 
made “ to observe all things, whatsoever He had 
commanded.” Those two teachings are quite distinct. 
The object of the one was to arouse the conscience of 
the heathen; the object of the other was to direct the 
conscience of the Christian. 

The state of things on which we have been animad¬ 
verting is also probably due in part to a reaction from 
the hard and dry style of preaching, which was in 
fashion some half-century ago. Some of us can 
remember the time when sermons were nothing more 
than moral essays, setting forth some duty, or some 
grace of the Christian character, with little or no 
reference to those evangelical motives from which alone 
an acceptable obedience can spring, and no suggestions 
of any value as to the method in which the particular 
grace recommended might be obtained. You were 
told that humility, and self-denial, and contentment 
were excellent things, and worthy of being pursued by 
all men; but as to the considerations which alone can 
move to the pursuit, and as to any practical method of 


0 


I.] now prevalent, and the Causes of it. 

maintaining them under difficulties, you were left in 
ignorance. But when it pleased God to quicken the 
dry bones of the Church with new life, men began to 
see that to divorce the moral code of Christ from His 
constraining love, which alone can enable us to keep it, 
was an unhallowed act, upon which God’s blessing can 
never rest, and that the exhortations of the Christian 
preacher should be something warmer, and more genial, 
and more persuasive than the moralizings of Seneca. 
Since that time, with the usual precipitancy of men to 
extremes, our divines have chiefly busied themselves 
with doctrine, and relinquished (or but feebly occupied) 
the ground of precept. The impression has been that 
people know every thing about Christian duty, and 
have no need to be enlightened on that head. And if 
by Christian duty be meant simply the moral law of 
God, in its outward, literal aspect, perhaps the impres¬ 
sion is more or less correct, at least as regards the 
educated classes. But if by Christian duty be meant 
sanctity of life and character, and a growing conformity 
to the image of the Lord Jesus, we must be pardoned 
for expressing our conviction that our best and most 
respectable congregations have very little insight into 
the thing itself, and still less into the method of its 
attainment. 

We devote these pages, then, to giving some sug¬ 
gestions on the nature of Personal Beligion, and the 
method of cultivating it,—a subject for the treatment 
of which by the ministers of Christ it appears to us 
that the circumstances of the time urgently call. We 
address our remarks more especially to those who per¬ 
ceive the hollowness of a religion of merely good 
impressions, and who feel that, if there be vitality in 
the Christian principle within them, they ought, as 
years roll on, to be making progress. The mere earnest 
desire for a holier life, which is often found in such 
souls, is something,—nay, it is much,—it is the fruit of 
grace, it is the working in the inner man of the instinct 
which Baptism implanted. Take courage, brother! 
Earnest desire of holiness is holiness in the germ thereof. 


10 On the Chief Characteristic [part 

Soon shalt thou know, if only thou wilt follow on to 
know, the Lord. But take one short and plain caution 
before we start. Sanctity is not the work of a day, but 
of a life. Growth in grace is subject to the same law of 
gradual and imperceptible advance as growth in nature. 
God’s natural creation, Moses tells us, was built up step 
by step, out of its first rudiments. Who could have 
believed that the germs of all the fair objects which we 
behold in nature were in that void, and dark, and 
formless earth, over whose waters the Spirit of God 
spread His fostering wing ? And who could have be¬ 
lieved that in this heart of ours,—such a medley of 
passions, vanities, pettiness, ignorance, as now it is,— 
there should be the germs of every grace which can 
bloom in the garden of God—of child-like humility, 
yea, and of heroic self-sacrifice ? Yet so it is. Be but 
true to your convictions. Bo but follow the instigations 
of that Spirit who hovered over the waters of your 
Baptism. Follow Him in darkness and light, through 
honour and dishonour, through evil report and good 
report, and in due time the new creation shall dawn 
within thee, and the fair fabric of God’s spiritual king¬ 
dom shall be built up step by step,—“ righteousness, 
and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost.” 


CHAPTER II. 

ON THE CniEF CHARACTERISTIC OF PERSONAL 
RELIGION. 

“ Crow in grace ”—2 Pet. iii. 18. 

In our first Chapter we spoke of the low standard 
of Personal Religion now prevalent, and of the causes 
of it. We assumed that every one of our hearers 
would form a more or less correct idea of what was 
meant by Personal Religion, and thus that there was 
no need,—at all events at that early stage of the 
argument,—of any formal definition. The words spoke 



I.] of Personal Peligion. 11 

for themselves sufficiently to enable us to follow the 
line of thought, along which our minds were then 
travelling. We shall gain, as we proceed, a more 
distinct and more highly chiselled notion in connexion 
with them; and such a notion, we trust, the present 
Chapter will convey. 

What is Personal Eeligion? What has been said 
already will have taught us that it is something more 
than a mere partaking in those sensations and in that 
general interest about religion, which are now so widely 
diffused among the public. We have also seen that it 
is something distinct from good impressions on the 
mind of the individual, which too often terminate upon 
themselves. These, however, are rather negative than 
positive features of it; and, having intimated what it 
is not, we are now inquiring what it is. One positive 
characteristic, then, of Personal Eeligion—perhaps its 
chief positive characteristic—is, spiritual growth—the 
growth of the individual soul “unto a perfect man, 
unto the measure of the stature of the fulness of 
Christ.” Personal Eeligion involves growth in grace; 
so that where there is growth, there is Personal Eeli¬ 
gion; and where there is no growth, although there 
may be interest in religious subjects, and keenness 
about controversies, and a perception of the importance 
of Divine truth, and a warm defence of orthodoxy, 
there Personal Eeligion is unknown. 

Now to say that Personal Eeligion is characterized 
by growth, is only another form of saying that the 
man who has it is spiritually alive. Growth in the 
animal and vegetable worlds is the sure sign, and the 
only sure sign of life, in all such subjects as have not 
} r et reached^ their maturity. If a branch does not 
sprout, and put forth leaf and blossom in the spring, 
and in due season fruit also, we know that it is a dead 
branch,—the sap which is the life of the tree does not 
reach it, is not circulating through it. If a child 
lives, it grows,—increases in stature daily, while its 
features fill out gradually into that definite shape, 
which they are to wear through life. Now we know 


12 On the Chief Characteristic [pabt 

that nature is everywhere a parable of grace. Its 
being so is the basis of all those beautiful illustrations 
which are called the parables of our Lord. And in 
the case before us, nature furnishes a most important 
parable of religious truth. The soul, or spiritual 
faculty, cannot indeed reach maturity in this life, 
while the taint of sin cleaves to it, and while it 
sojourns in a wicked world. That maturity is reserved 
for the happier climate which is congenial to righteous¬ 
ness, “the new heavens and the new earth,” and for 
a moral constitution, from which every corrupt bias 
and tendency to evil shall have been eliminated. But 
until that condition of blessedness shall arrive, the 
soul will never reach “ the measure of the stature of 
the fulness of Christ,” though it will be for ever 
approximating to it,—ever “ going on unto perfection,” 
both in knowledge and grace, and “ pressing toward 
the mark for the prize of the high calling.” There 
is no organic life without growth in nature, and there 
is no spiritual life without growth in grace. 

I say, no spiritual life,—that is, no continuous state 
of life. Spiritual impulses there may be many. 
Impulses, however, are not life, though they may 
originate or restore life. Here again we resort to 
nature for an illustration. There is an agency 
connected with life called galvanism. You may 
galvanize a paralysed limb, and by galvanism may 
restore the circulation, and so restore life, to it. But 
the galvanism is not the life; it only rouses the 
dormant powers of life. Galvanism is a certain develop¬ 
ment of electricity, the same mysterious agent which, 
in another form, darts to and fro among the clouds of 
heaven. The life of the limb, on the other hand, con¬ 
sists in its answering the purposes for which it was 
made, in its habitual subservience to the will, in the 
power of contracting and relaxing its muscles, when 
the will gives it notice to do so. Now the professing 
Christian, who is not spiritually alive, is a paralysed 
member of the Body of Christ. Impulses from a 
heavenly agent, the Holy Ghost, are ever and anon sent 
through the medium of God’s ordinances into this 


13 


I.] of Personal Peligion. 

Body of Christ, and impart a convulsive, fitful motion 
even to those limbs which are paralysed. It does not, 
however, follow that the paralysed limbs are restored. 
In some cases they may be; in some they may not. 
At all events, the fitful movement of the limb is one 
thing, its permanent vitality another. That glowing 
impression which you carried away from such a sermon, 
that seriousness which such a warning or such a bereave¬ 
ment left on your mind, may, after a convulsive move¬ 
ment of the soul—after saddening you for a week, or 
wringing a few tears from you—pass away for ever, 
and leave you still in a state of spiritual paralysis. 
Or it may really rouse the powers of life in your soul, 
may succeed in enlisting the whole machinery of the 
inner man,—understanding, affections, will, in Christ’s 
service,—may act as the first impulse in a career of 
holiness. Do not confound God’s grace, its motions, in¬ 
fluences, instigations, inspirations, with spiritual life. 
It is on account of this confusion of thought that well- 
meaning persons often suppose all to be right with them 
because they are the subjects of so many good impres¬ 
sions. God’s grace comes to us from without, in order 
to quicken spiritual life in us ; but the life itself is some¬ 
thing internal. The grace resembles the angel who 
troubled Bethesda’s pool, and for a moment conveyed 
to it a healing virtue. The life of the water would have 
consisted in its being changed permanently from a 
stagnant pool into a living spring, which as a fact was 
never done. 

To resume, then, our argument at the point from 
which we have slightl} r digressed. The question whether 
any of us has Personal Religion, resolves itself into a 
question whether he has in him a principle of spiritual 
growth ; and spiritual growth implies spiritual life. Per¬ 
sonal Religion therefore is, in fact, one and the same 
thing with the spiritual life of the individual soul.—And 
now let us turn, at this early period of the discussion, 
to examine our own consciences upon the truth which 
we have already gained. It must, I suppose, stand to 
reason that nothing but a Personal Religion will stand 


14 


On the Chief Characteristic [part 

us in stead at the last day. The individual will then he 
the object of the divine scrutiny; not the society in 
which he has moved, and whose sentiments, habits, and 
circumstances have perhaps reflected upon him a super¬ 
ficial tinge of piety. Society is made up of individuals ; 
and the sentiments of society are ultimately formed and 
determined by the sentiments of individuals; and there¬ 
fore God, who searches all deep things, will examine at 
that day microscopically the little world of the indi¬ 
vidual’s mind. “ And when the king came in to see the 
guests,” says our Saviour, “ he saw there a man which 
had not on a wedding garment.” He saw there a man ; 
one man,—singular;—not that there will not he found 
at the last day hundreds of thousands of souls in the same 
sad plight as this poor man; but to teach us forcibly, by 
the selection of a single specimen, that no one shall pass 
muster in the crowd, that not only all, but each must be 
judged,—that upon each soul in that awful crisis the full 
glare of Divine Omniscience must be turned in,—that the 
religion which alone will then abide must he personal, 
deep, individual. Is ours then at present a Personal 
Religion ? Is it a growing one ? Is there a principle 
of growth in it ? Does it wax stronger against tempt¬ 
ations, more stedfast in faith, more constant and more 
fervent in prayer, as years roll on ? Are our views of 
God and of Christ gradually enlarging and clearing, and 
becoming more adequate ? Are they more humbling to 
ourselves, hut at the same time more inwardly satis¬ 
factory and consolatory than they used to he ? Are be¬ 
setting sins more resolutely and successfully mortified 
than they used to he ? Are our souls, though sometimes 
stirred by spiritual emotions, like Bethesda’s pool ? or 
is the Spirit’s agency in them deep, profound, eternal— 
“ a well of water springing up into everlasting life ?” 

Reader, seeing that on the answer to these questions 
our all is suspended, it behoves us to be very careful in 
answering them. Is my religion a growing one ? In 
that word “ growing ” the decision of the whole ques¬ 
tion is wrapped up. Mark the point, I pray you, and 
keep to it. The point is not whether I have very 


i.] of Personal Religion. 15 

lively feelings, very warm emotions in connexion with 
religion (those are often constitutional and dependent 
on physical temperament), but whether I am growing ? 
The point is not, whether I fulfil certain duties, social 
and religious, with commendable regularity (a reflec¬ 
tion satisfactory enough as far as it goes, but not 
bearing on the present question), but, whether I am 
growing? And again the point is not (God forbid 
that it should be!) whether I am coming up to the 
standard of character and conduct, which I have set 
before myself? whether I am satisfied with my own 
life? whether I am as yet near to the mind and 
image of Christ ? whether I am in sight of the goal 
of perfection ?—not this, but simply, “ Am I grow¬ 
ing?” This one little word is the test, which, faith¬ 
fully applied, shall reveal to us our state. But how to 
apply it? how to be sure that we are applying it 
right ? Methinks I hear some reader ask whether this 
growth is consistent with frequent relapses, with the 
backslidings (some of them very serious) of which he is 
only too conscious ? To which we answer, with some 
assurance, “ Yes, if the fall have been one of infirmity ; 
if the will has (so to say) picked itself up afterwards, 
and, though bruised and bleeding, gone manfully 
forward, giving its hand once again to the Lord Jesus, 
and consenting heartily (as before) to His guidance.” 
There may be health and vitality in a constitution 
plagued with sickness ; and if there be such a vitality, 
it will enable the constitution to throw the sickness off'. 
We do not for a moment desire to excuse sin; but at 
the same time God’s people should be instructed, for 
their comfort, that there is a wonderful economy in His 
Kingdom of Grace, by which He sometimes brings 
even out of relapses (as in the case of the fall of St. 
Peter) a burst of penitent love and zeal, which gives 
the soul a most powerful forward impulse. The 
Apostle had denied Christ in a moment of weakness; 
but he rises from the denial at once, when his Master’s 
look recalled him to himself, and goes out and weeps 
bitterly. Soon afterwards we discover that he has 


16 


On the Chief Characteristic [paht 

grown in grace. We see him throwing himself into 
the water, and wading ashore to meet the Lord,—a 
mute but very touching way of saying that his affection 
is now more zealous than ever. As an illustration of 
this law in the Kingdom of Grace, consider the move¬ 
ment of the tide when it is coming in. It is movement 
upon the whole. The water is sure to cover that dry 
beach in two or three hours’ time, and to float that 
stranded sea-weed; hut it is not a movement without 
relapses. Each wave, I suppose, gains a little ground, 
hut each wave falls hack as soon as it has plashed upon 
the shore. Even so in the Christian life, there may be 
a forward movement on the whole, consistently with 
many relapses, though this assertion requires to be 
guarded by the observation that the relapses must be 
such as proceed from infirmity, and not from malice 
prepense. Deliberate, habitual sin, cannot possibly 
consist with spiritual growth; but the shaking of a 
man’s stedfastness by a sudden tornado of temptation 
(which was St. Peter’s case) may do so. The great 
question is whether, after every such fall, the will 
recovers its spring and elasticity, and makes a fresh 
start with new and more fervent prayer and resolve. 
Indeed, the making many fresh starts after relapses of 
infirmity is a hopeful sign of growth. In order to any 
great attainment in spiritual life, there must be an 
indomitable resolve to try and try again, and still to 
begin anew amidst much failure and discouragement. 
On warm dewy mornings in the spring vegetation 
makes a shoot; and when we rise, and throw open the 
window, we mark that the May is blossoming in the 
hedgerows. And those .periods when a man can say, 
“ I lost myself sadly yesterday in temper or in talk; 
but I know that my crucified Lord took upon Him 
those sins and answered for them, and to-day I will 
earnestly strive against them in the strength of His 
Spirit, invoked into my soul by earnest prayer,”—these 
are the warm dewy mornings of the soul, when the 
spiritual life within us sprouts and blossoms apace. 

Again, it should be remembered, lest any whom the 


17 


i.] of Personal Beligion. 

Lord hath not made sad should be put out of heart by 
the application of the test, that all real growth is very 
slow, and its actual progress imperceptible. The seed 
sown on stony ground, which forthwith sprang up, 
because it had no deepness of earth, proved a failure. 
Jonah’s gourd, which came up in a night, perished also 
in a night. We never see plants actually growing; 
we only take notice that they have grown. He who 
would form a sound judgment of his spiritual progress 
must throw his eye over long, not short, intervals of 
time. He must compare the self of this year with the 
self of last; not the self of to-day with the self of 
yesterday. Enough if amid the divers and shifting 
experiences of the world, and the manifold internal 
self-communings arising thereupon, that delicate plant, 
spiritual life, has grappled its fibre a little deeper into 
the soil than it seemed to have done in an earlier stage 
of our pilgrimage, now fairly past. 

Let those characters, for whom they are designed, 
take to themselves the comfort of these considerations. 
But let not the indolent and formal derive from them 
the slightest encouragement. Again we say, that the 
one sign of vital Personal Beligion is growth. There 
is no growth in a life of spiritual routine, in a 
mechanical performance of duties, however important, 
or a mechanical attendance upon ordinances, however 
sacred. There is no growth without zeal and fervour, 
and that sort of enthusiastic interest in religion, with 
which a man must take up any thing if he wishes to 
succeed in it. There is no growth in the deliberate 
adoption of a low standard, in the attempt to keep 
back a moiety of the heart from Christ, in consenting 
to go with God thus far only, and no further. There 
is no growth in contenting ourselves with respectability, 
and declining the pursuit of holiness. There is no 
growth without fervent prayer, “in spirit and in 
truth.” And, finally, there is no growth (whatever be 
the hopes with which we may be flattering ourselves) 
without continual and sincere effort. 

But it is now time to conclude this chapter. And 

c 


18 On the Chief Characteristic [part 

we will do so by remarking that if an examination of 
conscience should show that we are not growing in 
grace, there is but one alternative, which is that we are 
falling back. An awful truth; but one as infallibly 
certain as any other phenomenon of our moral state. 
Neither in mind nor'body does man ever “continue 
in one stay.” His body is constantly throwing off 
old particles of matter, and appropriating new ones. 
Every breath he breathes, every exertion of his 
muscles and limbs, every particle of food he swallows, 
makes some minute change in the bodily frame¬ 
work, so that it is never entirely the same. Of each 
individual among us it may be said with truth at any 
given moment, that he is either rising to, or declin¬ 
ing from, the prime of life and the maturity of his 
physical powers. And the mind no less than the body 
is in a continual flux. It too has its moral element, 
the society in which it lives,—it too has its nourish¬ 
ment, which it is constantly imbibing,—the influences 
of the world and the lower nature, or those of the 
Spirit of God. One or other of those influences is 
always imperceptibly passing into the mind and 
effecting a gradual change. And the awful thought is, 
that if the change is not for the better, it must be for 
the worse; if the mind is not appropriating the higher, 
it must be appropriating the lower influences; if there 
is no growth in grace, there must be a growth in 
worldliness and sin. Strictly speaking, nothing is 
morally indifferent; every moral action leaves its 
impress upon moral character. Our fireside conver¬ 
sations, our thoughts as we pass along the streets 
to our daily work, our spirit in the transaction of 
business, all have some amount, small though it be, of 
moral value; all are tending more or less remotely to 
form the character; amid all, and through all, we are 
either making spiritual progress or falling back from 
the mark. With what solemnity do these thoughts 
invest even the most trifling incidents of life! It is 
impossible to ,pass through them and come out the 
same;—we are changed either for the better or for the 


19 


I.] of Personal Religion. 

worse. We will look to it, then, that in future at 
least it shall be for the better. If it have been hitherto 
for the worse, we will this very hour embrace that 
already purchased pardon, which obliterates in an 
instant the guilt of a whole past career of sin, and 
that grace proffered by Christ no less gratuitously, 
which moulds the will unto newness of life. And to¬ 
morrow we will, in the strength of that grace, make a 
new beginning, taking up this anthem into our mouths; 
“ All my fresh springs shall be in Thee.” 


CHAPTER III. 

OF THE ENTIRE DEPENDENCE OF SANCTITY ON CHRIST, 
AND OF THE RELATION WHICH THE MEANS OF 
GRACE HOLD TO HIM. 

“ Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot 
bear fruit of itself except it abide in the vine; no 
more can ye, except ye abide in Me. 

“ I am the vine, ye are the branches ; he that abideth in 
Me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much 
fruit: for without Me ye can do nothing .”— St. John 
xv. 4, 5. 

The subject of this treatise is Personal Religion, or, in 
other words, that “ holiness, without which no man 
shall see the Lord.” It is evident that we shall be 
liable to misapprehend the subject fundamentally, unless 
we have at the outset a clear notion of the nature of 
Christian holiness. It is to give the reader this clear 
notion that the present Chapter will be devoted. 

In the passage which stands at the head of it, there 
is a slight inaccuracy of translation, which requires to 
be set right before the force of Our Lord’s words can be 
thoroughly appreciated. “ Without Me ye can do no¬ 
thing,” should rather be rendered, “ Apart from Me,” 
“ separate from Me,” “ in a state of independence on 
c 2 


22 Of the entire dependence [part 

mastered at length—much as a lesson is mastered- by 
a variety of exercises, prayers, fastings, meditations, 
almsdeeds, self-discipline, Sacraments; and. when mas¬ 
tered, a sort of permanent acquisition, which goes on 
increasing as the stock of these spiritual exercises ac¬ 
cumulates. It is not regarded in its true light as a 
momentary receiving out of Christ’s fulness grace for 
grace, as the result of His inworking in a heart, which 
finds the task of self-renewal hopeless, and makes itself 
over to Him, to be moulded by His plastic hands, re¬ 
signing, of course, its will to Him in all things, without 
which resignation such a surrender would be a horrible 
hypocrisy. 

Now let us take up the illustrations of this truth ; 
and first His own illustration, the wisest, profoundest, 
and most beautiful of all. “As the branch can¬ 
not bear fruit of itself, except it abide in the vine; 
no more can ye, except ye abide in Me;” “Apart 
from Me ye can do nothing.” The circulating sap, 
which is the life of the tree, is indeed in the vine- 
branch, so long as it holds of the ‘stem; but in no 
sense whatever, is it from the vine-branch. Cut off the 
branch from the stem, and it ceases instantaneously 
to live, for it has no independent life. Even so the 
fruits of the Spirit, while of course our hearts are the 
sphere of their manifestation, are in no sense from our 
hearts; they are not the result of the energizing of our 
own will; they are not a righteousness of our own, 
built up by a series of endeavours, or a laborious 
process of self-discipline, but a righteousness outflow¬ 
ing continually from the fulness of Grace which is in 
Christ. 

Another illustration may perhaps help to impress 
the truth. When we walk abroad on a beautiful day, 
and survey a landscape lit up by the beams of a sum¬ 
mer sun, our eye catches a variety of colours lying on 
the surface of this landscape,—there is the yellow of 
the golden grain, the green of the pasture-land, the 
dark brown of those thick-planted copses, the silver 
gleam of the stream which winds through them, the 


23 


i.] of Sanctity on Christ. 

faint blue of distant hills seen in perspective, the more 
intense blue of the sky, the purple tinge of yonder 
sheet of water; but none of these colours reside in the 
landscape, they are not the properties of the material 
objects on which they rest. All colours are wrapped 
up in the sunlight, which, as is well known, may be 
seen resolved into its elementary colours in the prism 
or the rainbow. Apart from the sunlight no object 
has any colour; as is shown by the fact that, as soon 
as Light is withdrawn from the landscape, the colours 
fade from the robe of Nature. The difference of colour 
in different objects, while the sun is shining, is produced 
by some subtle difference of texture or superficies, 
which makes each object absorb certain rays, and 
reflect certain other rays, in different proportions. 
Now Christ is the Sun of Righteousness, in Whom 
dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead bodily,—the 
fair colour of every grace and Christian virtue. When 
Christ is shining upon the heart, then these virtues 
are manifested there, by one Christian graces of one 
description, by another of another, according to their 
different receptivity and natural temperament, just as, 
when the sun is shining, colours are thrown upon a 
landscape, and reflected by the different objects in dif¬ 
ferent proportions. But as no part of the landscape 
has any colour in the absence of the sun, nor can 
acquire any independently of the sun, so Christians 
have no grace except from Christ, nor hold any virtue 
independently of Him. 

Let it be clearly understood, then, that the great 
secret of bringing forth much fruit, or, in other words, 
of all advance in grace and holiness, is, according to 
the profound teaching of our Lord Himself, a constant 
keeping open (and if possible, enlarging) the avenues 
of the soul towards Him. If a vine-branch is to sprout 
and throw out new suckers and shoots, the tube by 
which it communicates with the stock of the tree must 
adhere tightly to the stem, and be well open for the 
passage of the sap. If you desire to see the colours of 
furniture in this room, whose shutters are closed, throw 


24 Of the entire dependence [paet 

open the shutters, and admit the full flood of sunlight. 
And if you desire to see the dead heart put forth the 
energies of spiritual life, and the dark heart illumined 
by the fair colours of spiritual grace, throw wide open 
the passage of communication between Christ and it, 
and allow the Life which is in Him, and the Light 
which is in Him, to circulate freely through it.—But 
how to do this ? in other words, how to fulfil His own 
precept, “ Abide in Me, and I in you?” Ah! vitally 
important question,—question upon which the whole 
of our sanctification * (and thus the whole of our sal¬ 
vation) is suspended! Let us address ourselves to 
answer it, with the earnest prayer that God would 
guide us into all truth. 

Observe that our Lord prescribes mutual indwell¬ 
ing, as the secret of spiritual fertility. Take heed that 
ye “ abide in Me, and I in you.” Here is not one idea 
only, hut two ; the dwelling of the Christian in Christ, 
as the body dwells in an atmosphere, and the dwelling of 
Christ in the Christian, as the soul dwells in the body. 

I. Take heed, first, that “ ye abide in Me.” This 
is done by faith. As we first consciously entered into 
fellowship with Christ by faith (I say consciously 
entered into fellowship with Him, for when we were 
baptized as Infants, we entered unconsciously into His 
fellowship), so there is no other way to abide in Him, 
than by repeated exercises of the same .faith. The 
faith which enables the soul to abide in Christ is 
nothing else than an assured trust and confidence on 
our part, that, as He has already wrought out foe us 
our acceptance with God, so He will work in us every 
gracious disposition (be it repentance, or faith itself, 
or humility, or hope, or love) which is necessary to 
qualify us for glory. It is not enough to supplicate 
these graces; we must lean upon Him for them, and 
fix the eye of expectation upon the promise of His new 
Covenant; “ I will put My laws into their mind, and 
write them in their hearts:” being well assured that 
He will fulfil to us the terms thereof. There is a pro¬ 
mise, I say, that He will fulfil in us all the work of 


25 


I.] of Sanctity on Christ. 

Sanctification; and it is well that it is so, by way 
of making assurance doubly sure, and giving to the 
doubtful heart a stronger consolation. But even were 
there no promise, could it be a question as to whether 
He would form in us those tempers and frames of mind, 
which He Himself requires of us? Do we seriously 
believe that He loved us so intensely as to abdicate His 
throne in Heaven for our sakes, to empty Himself of 
all the glory which He had with the Father before the 
world was, to confine Himself within the limits of man’s 
feeble faculties, and feebler body, to expose Himself to 
shame, and spitting, and obloquy, and a death most 
cruel and ignominious ? If we do not believe as much 
as this, we are clearly no Christians. And if we do 
believe thus much, is it conceivable that He who has 
gone to the utmost verge of self-sacrifice in ransoming 
our souls, should be wanting to us in what will cost 
Him no sacrifice, but yet is necessary to complete our 
salvation ? If the soul has the least scintillation of a 
desire to be holy; much more, if it is bent on being 
holy, as far as its power goes ; still more if it is striving 
and struggling to be holy, and beating against the cage 
of its corruptions in a great longing for spiritual free¬ 
dom, as a poor imprisoned bird beats, who sees outside 
the bright sun and the green trees, and other birds 
flitting to and fro in the blue ether,—is it conceivable 
that the Incarnate Love, the Love which bled, and 
agonized, and poured itself out in death for the objects 
on which it had fastened, should not meet that desire, 
that longing, that striving, and visit the soul with 
power? As without holiness no man shall (or can) 
see the Lord, must not Christ be much more earnestly 
anxious to make us holy, than we can be to be made 
so? If we do not believe in this earnest anxiety 
of His, do we believe in His love at all ? Have we- 
ever really apprehended it; or has it been merely a tale 
recited in our ears, which we do not care indeed to con¬ 
tradict, but which has never at all taken hold of, or 
touched, our hearts ? 

Ah! what if these struggles to be holy should them- 


24 Of the entire dependence [paet 

open the shutters, and admit the full flood of sunlight. 
And if you desire to see the dead heart put forth the 
energies of spiritual life, and the dark heart illumined 
by the fair colours of spiritual grace, throw wide open 
the passage of communication between Christ and it, 
and allow the Life which is in Him, and the Light 
which is in Him, to circulate freely through it.—But 
how to do this ? in other words, how to fulfil His own 
precept, “Abide in Me, and I in you?” Ah! vitally 
important question,—question upon which the whole 
of our sanctification * (and thus the whole of our sal¬ 
vation) is suspended! Let us address ourselves to 
answer it, with the earnest prayer that God would 
guide us into all truth. 

Observe that our Lord prescribes mutual indwell¬ 
ing, as the secret of spiritual fertility. Take heed that 
ye “ abide in Me, and I in you.” Here is not one idea 
only, hut two ; the dwelling of the Christian in Christ, 
as the body dwells in an atmosphere, and the dwelling of 
Christ in the Christian, as the soul dwells in the body. 

I. Take heed, first, that “ ye abide in Me.” This 
is done by faith. As we first consciously entered into 
fellowship with Christ by faith (I say consciously 
entered into fellowship with Him, for when we were 
baptized as infants, we entered unconsciously into His 
fellowship), so there is no other way to abide in Him, 
than by repeated exercises of the same .faith. The 
faith which enables the soul to abide in Christ is 
nothing else than an assured trust and confidence on 
our part, that, as He has already wrought out foe us 
our acceptance with God, so He will work rtf us every 
gracious disposition (be it repentance, or faith itself, 
or humility, or hope, or love) which is necessary to 
qualify us for glory. It is not enough to supplicate 
these graces; we must lean upon Him for them, and 
fix the eye of expectation upon the promise of His new 
Covenant; “ I will put My laws into their mind, and 
write them in their hearts:” being well assured that 
He will fulfil to us the terms thereof. There is a pro¬ 
mise, I say, that He will fulfil in us all the work of 


25 


I.] of Sanctity on Christ. 

Sanctification; and it is well that it is so, by way 
of making assurance doubly sure, and giving to the 
doubtful heart a stronger consolation. But even were 
there no promise, could it be a question as to whether 
He would form in us those tempers and frames of mind, 
which He Himself requires of us? Do we seriously 
believe that He loved us so intensely as to abdicate His 
throne in Heaven for our sakes, to empty Himself of 
all the glory which He had with the Father before the 
world was, to confine Himself within the limits of man’s 
feeble faculties, and feebler body, to expose Himself to 
shame, and spitting, and obloquy, and a death most 
cruel and ignominious ? If we do not believe as much 
as this, we are clearly no Christians. And if we do 
believe thus much, is it conceivable that He who has 
gone to the utmost verge of self-sacrifice in ransoming 
our souls, should be wanting to us in what will cost 
Him no sacrifice, but yet is necessary to complete our 
salvation ? If the soul has the least scintillation of a 
desire to be holy; much more, if it is bent on being 
holy, as far as its power goes ; still more if it is striving 
and struggling to be holy, and beating against the cage 
of its corruptions in a great longing for spiritual free¬ 
dom, as a poor imprisoned bird beats, who sees outside 
the bright sun and the green trees, and other birds 
flitting to and fro in the blue ether,—is it conceivable 
that the Incarnate Love, the Love which bled, and 
agonized, and poured itself out in death for the objects 
on which it had fastened, should not meet that desire, 
that longing, that striving, and visit the soul with 
power? As without holiness no man shall (or can) 
see the Lord, must not Christ be much more earnestly 
anxious to make us holy, than we can be to be made 
so ? If we do not believe in this earnest anxiety 
of His, do we believe in His love at all ? Have w& 
ever really apprehended it; or has it been merely a tale 
recited in our ears, which we do not care indeed to con¬ 
tradict, but which has never at all taken hold of, or 
touched, our hearts ? 

Ah! what if these struggles to be holy should them- 


26 


Of the entire dependence [part 

selves be in a certain sense a token of unbelief? What if 
the poor bird imprisoned in the cage should be thinking 
that, if it is ever to gain its liberty, it must be by its 
own exertions, and by vigorous and frequent strokes of 
its wings against the bars? If it did so, it would ere 
long fall back breathless and exhausted, faint and sore, 
and despairing. And the soul will have a similar ex¬ 
perience, which thinks that Christ has indeed won par¬ 
don and acceptance for her, but that Sanctification she 
must win for herself, and under this delusion beats 
herself sore in vain efforts to correct the propensities 
of a heart which the Word of God pronounces to be 
“desperately” wicked. That heart,—you can make 
nothing of it yourself;—leave it to Christ, in quiet 
dependence upon His grace. Suffer Him to open the 
prison-doors for you, and then you shall fly out and 
hide yourself in your Lord’s Bosom, and there find rest. 
Yield up the soul to Him, and place it in His hands, 
and you shall at once begin to have the delightful 
experience of His power in sanctifying. 

“ Yield up the soul,” we say. And in saying so, 
we of course imply (though it needs to be expressed, 
as well as implied) that you yield up your will with¬ 
out reserve. There is no such thing as yielding up the 
soul, without yielding up the will; for the will is the 
chief power of the soul." Christ Himself cannot sanc¬ 
tify a moral agent, whose will holds persistently to his 
corruptions. Even a man cannot liberate a bird from 
its cage, which likes to stay there, refuses to move when 
the door is opened, and flies back when it is taken out. 
God has given us a free will, the exercise of which 
cannot indeed change our hearts, or renew our moral 
nature, but which can say “Nay” to the world, to the 
flesh, and the devil; which shows that it can say 
“ Nay,” by saying it sometimes, when worldly interests 
are concerned. And this “Nay” it must say, if the 
soul is to be sanctified and bring forth fruit. 

II. But our blessed Lord said not only “ Abide 
in Me,” but also “ Let me, or take heed that I, abide 
in you.” He thus teaches us that Ordinance, as well 


I.] of Sanctity on Christ. 27 

as Faith, forms part of the system of His religion, and 
especially that Ordinance, in which indeed all others are 
included, by which He communicates Himself to the 
faithful soul. In order to the fruitfulness of the vine- 
branch, two conditions have to be fulfilled; the first 
that the branch shall adhere closely to the stem, and 
offer an open tube for the passage of the sap,—this is 
the abiding of the branch in the vine; the second, that 
the sap shall rise ever and anon from the vine-stock, 
and pass into the branch,—this is the abiding of the 
vine in the branch. Similarly in the case of the 
Christian. The first condition of his spiritual fruitful¬ 
ness is that he shall adhere by a close trust to Christ, 
and keep open towards Him the avenues of faith, 
hope, and expectation. This is, “ Abide in Me.” The 
second is, that Christ shall continually send up into his 
heart a current of holy inspirations, new loves, good 
impulses, devout hopes. Or, more accurately, that He 
shall communicate Himself to the soul by the continual 
influx of the Holy Ghost. This is, “ And I in you.” 
And this communication of Himself is made specially 
(where that Sacrament may be had) in the Supper of 
the Lord; He comes at those seasons into the opened, 
avenue of the faithful communicant’s soul, comes to 
cement by His own passage into the inner man the 
union in which our faith cleaves to Him; and the 
result is “the strengthening and refreshing of our 
souls by the Body and Blood of Christ, as our bodies 
are by the Bread and Wine.” 

Thus a devout and frequent use of the Sacrament 
appointed for spiritual growth, and as the instrument of 
Christ’s indwelling, is, though not literally expressed in 
this passage, clearly implied. And it should be observed 
that the Divine allegory quite precludes the supposition 
that without faith in the recipient the Holy Supper 
will avail any tiling for sanctification and growth in 
grace. The vine-stock may push upwards its sap in 
strong current, at the first outburst of the genial 
spring; but what will that avail the branch, which 
does not hold closely to the tree, which is half broken 


28 Of the entire dependence [part 

off from the stem, and the fracture filled up with dust, 
or corroded by insects ? Christ may offer Himself to 
us in the Lord’s Supper; but, if the soul cleaves not to 
Him, if the avenues of the heart are not open towards 
Him, how can He enter ? 

Finally; it is particularly important in speaking of 
Christ’s communication with us by Ordinances, to 
recognize the exact position which the Ordinance holds, 
so as not to estimate it unduly, or erect it into the 
place which is due only to the Lord of the Ordinance. 
Be it clearly understood, then, that no Ordinance (not 
even Holy Communion itself) is otherwise valuable 
than as a channel or vehicle of communication with 
the Church’s Lord. They are all (even the highest 
and holiest) so many tubes, through which the sap of 
grace rises from the vine-stock into the branches. For 
which reason, in advocating the devout use of Ordi¬ 
nances, we do not in the slightest degree derogate 
from our Lord’s honour, nor direct the eye of the mind 
to another point of sight than Him. It is not to be 
imagined for a moment that a man by prayers, and 
fastings, and meditations, and Sacraments, lays in a 
stock of holiness, which becomes to him so much 
realized spiritual gain, upon which he may draw in 
case a spiritual bankruptcy should threaten him at the 
hour of death or the day of judgment. Away with 
such ideas, which are a modern form of Pharisaism! 
These Ordinances are precious and blessed for no other 
reason than that they bring us into relation, by His 
own institution of them, with the great Head of the 
Church; and except we stand in such relation, and 
except such relation is from time to time renewed, and 
cemented, and strengthened, there is no life in us. Of 
faith itself the same remark might be made. There 
is no intrinsic merit in trusting to Christ, just as there 
is no intrinsic merit in praying and communicating; 
but faith is the ordained inward means, as Prayers and 
Sacraments are the ordained outward means, of com¬ 
munication with the One Source of Life and Sanctity. 

An illustration may sometimes serve a good turn in 


I.] of Sanctity on Christ. 29 

keeping truth distinctly before the mind. I therefore 
offer the following illustration of the mutual relations 
between Christ, our faith, and Christian Ordinances. 
A woman, like the Samaritan in the Gospel, comes 
with a pitcher to draw water at a well. Her object is 
to reach and procure the water ; and she does this by 
letting down the pitcher into the well, and drawing it 
up again. It is at once understood that the pitcher is 
not the same thing as the muscular action, by which it 
is let down and drawn up. Both must contribute to 
the result: for without either pitcher or muscular 
action no water could be obtained; but the pitcher is 
external to the person, the muscular action a move¬ 
ment of the person. It is also clearly seen that neither 
pitcher nor muscular action are water,-—that the arm 
might put itself forth for ever, and the pitcher be let 
down continually, but that if it were a dry pit into 
which the vessel wer e lowered, no refreshment could be 
had thereby. The figure is easy of application. Christ 
is the Well of the Water of Life, from Whom alone can 
be drawn those streams of Grace, which refresh, and 
quicken, and fertilize the soul. It is by faith that the 
soul reaches out after this living water; faith is the 
soul’s muscular action, by which the water is drawn up 
and brought into use. But faith needs as an implement 
those means which Christ has appointed, and parti¬ 
cularly the mean of means, which He instituted for the 
conveyance of Himself to faithful souls. These means 
are the pitcher, in which the water is conveyed. Faith 
is not a Christ; neither are Sacraments a Christ; but 
faith (under all circumstances) and Sacraments, where 
they may be had, are necessary to the appropriation 
and enjoyment of Christ. 

Oh for more faith, more of the principle which 
cleaves closely in trust, and affiance, and self-surrender, 
to the Lord! It is not in the use of means, generally 
speaking, that religious persons are deficient; but it 
is in that believing use of them, which recognizes Him 
as the only Source of Grace and Life, and having done 
His will with simplicity, assures itself of the blessing. 


30 


Personal Religion [part 

0 True Vine, let us cleave to Thee with such a faith, 
so that the virtue which is in Thee may pass into our 
souls, and that we may bring forth much fruit, to the 
glory of God the Father! Amen. 


CHAPTER IV. 

PERSONAL RELIGION BOTH ACTIVE AND CONTEM¬ 
PLATIVE. 

“ In the year that King TJzziah died I saw also the 
Lord sitting upon a throne , high and lifted up, and 
his train filled the temple. 

“ Above it stood the Seraphims: each one had six icings: 
with twain he covered his face , and with twain he 
covered his feet , and with twain he did fly .”— Isa. 
vi. 1, 2. 

We are speaking of Personal Religion, which has been 
explained to be one and the same thing with the life of 
God in the individual soul. In this Chapter we propose 
to trace out the two great divisions of the subject. 

We are taught by our Lord Himself to pray that 
God’s will may be done “ upon earth, as it is in 
heaven.” The persons by whom it is done in heaven, 
are, of course, the holy angels. Our Lord, therefore, 
in bidding us offer this petition, proposes to us the 
angelic life as the model of the Christian life. And 
this throws us back upon the inquiry what the life of 
angels is; for manifestly we cannot form our life upon 
their model, unless we have some sufficient idea of their 
pursuits and occupations. Accordingly, the Scripture 
furnishes such an idea. The veil is drawn aside by the 
prophet Isaiah, and a glimpse is given us of the life of 
Seraphim, or “burning ones” (for such is the meaning 
of the Hebrew word), an order of angels who in ail 
probability take their name from the fervent zeal and 
burning love with which they are animated. The 



31 


i.] both Active and Contemplative. 

prophet sees in a vision these shining creatures standing 
above the throne of Christ (for it was He, St. John 
informs us, whose glory Isaiah saw on this occasion) ; 
and their occupations were twofold: first, contemplative 
devotion; secondly, quick and active service. “ Each 
one had six wings; with twain he covered his face, and 
with twain he covered his feet—this is the Seraphim’s 
life of devotion. “ And with twain he did fly—this 
is his life of active service. If, then, God’s will is to 
be done by His people on earth, as it is by His angels in 
Heaven, there must enter into the spiritual fife upon 
earth two great elements, devotion towards God, and 
work for God. We will take a general view of each of 
these. Subsequent Chapters will prosecute the subject 
in detail under these two heads. 

I. The spiritual or angelic life upon earth consists 
not only of devotion. To suppose that the spiritual 
life is devotion, and nothing else, is the mistake of the 
recluse, the ascetic, and the monk. One round of 
religious service, one long peal of the organ from 
matins to evensong, one prayer unbroken, except by 
the actual necessities of the body, and by these as little 
‘as may be,—this is the idea of conventual life, though 
it may be an idea never realized to the full extent. 
And quite apart from the conventual system, wherever 
there are multiplied religious services (a great help, of 
course, if used in a certain way), and leisure and the 
will to attend on them, there is always a tendency, 
against which the devout man must be on his guard, to 
wrap up the whole of religion in attendance upon the 
means of grace. But the Seraph himself, though indeed 
the spirit of adoration is upon him always, is not 
always engaged in direct acts of praise. “ With twain 
of his wings he doth fly,”—speed forth, like lightning, 
upon the errands on which God sends him. Gabriel, 
who stands in the presence of God, must come down to 
the earth, and enter beneath a humble roof in Nazareth, 
to salute a pure maiden as mother of the Son of God. 
Another angel has it in charge to descend periodically 
into the pool of Bethesda, and impart to the waters a 


32 Personal Religion [pabt 

healing efficacy, sufficient for one patient. Another is 
sent to roll back the stone from the Holy Sepulchre, 
and sit upon it, inspiring the Roman guard with terror, 
and the holy women with an assurance of the resur¬ 
rection. Another must pass into St. Peter’s prison- 
house, and lead him out through bolt, and bar, and 
iron grating, “to freedom and cool moonlight air.” 
Another must shoot down, like a falling star, into the 
cabin of a ship tossed with the waves of the stormy 
Adriatic, and announce to St. Paul that, despite all 
the fury of the elements, he and all the crew, of which 
he formed a part, were safe in life and limb; while 
another is commissioned to salute by name a praying 
centurion of the Italian band, and to assure him that 
his prayers and his alms had come up as a memorial 
before God. Thus one and all of them are, not merely 
adoring spirits, but also “ ministering spirits, sent forth 
to minister for those who shall be heirs of salvation.” 
Praise is not their only occupation; they have active 
work to do for God. 

Reader, there is a deep-seated necessity for work in 
the constitution of our nature. In the absence of 
regular and active occupation, the mind is apt to grow 
morbid, stagnant, and what is worse than either— 
selfish. One of the greatest thinkers of antiquity 
defined happiness to be “ an energy of the soul.” And 
is it not true ? Only watch the avidity with which 
men, even in extreme old age, when one would think 
that the interests of this life were on the wane for 
them, catch at some exciting pursuit, like politics. 
The lesson, which as Christians we should draw from 
this observation, is that most unquestionably God has 
made man for activity, as well as for contemplation. 
The reason why the activity fails in numberless in¬ 
stances to secure happiness, is that it is separated from 
God, that it is not in His service and interests. This 
being the case, it too often engrosses, hampers, en¬ 
tangles, impedes,—is as a dead weight to the soul, 
instead of, as it might be, a wing, and a means of 
furtherance. 


*•] 


loth Active and Contempt 



Let every one, therefore, who sti 
ligion, seriously consider, first, in wl 
work which God has given him to 
he may execute that work in a happy 
of mind. I need not say that the services on which 
God condescends to employ men are almost infinitely 
various. Each one of us has a stewardship somewhere 
in the great social system, and some gift qualifying 
him for it; and if he will but consult faithfully the 
intimations of God’s providence, he will not be long 
before he discovers what it is. It may be that we are 
called to very humble duties, duties very low down in 
the social scale. Still even they are held from God, and 
constitute a stewardship * and the one talent which 
qualifies us for them will have to be accounted for as 
much as if it were ten talents. To regard the business 
attaching to any station of life as insignificant, is as 
unreasonable as it is unscriptural. St. Paul says of the 
human body, that God has “given honour to those 
members which lacked.” The same may be said of 
society. Its whole fabric and framework is built up of 
humble duties accurately fulfilled by persons in humble 
stations. What would become of society, and how 
could its well-being and progress be secured, if all the 
subordinates in every department of life, all those who 
have to play the more mechanical parts, were to throw 
up their callings on the excuse that they were not 
sufficiently dignified? How would it fare with the 
plans of the architect, if the builders and masons 
throughout the country were to suspend their labours ? 
But we need not reason upon the subject, where the 
Word of God has spoken so explicitly. The Scripture, 
with that wonderful penetration into the thoughts of 
man which characterizes its every page, has taken care 
to set the seal of dignity and sacredness upon those 
callings and employments which are lowest in the 
social scale. Our Blessed Lord, when learning of the 
doctors in the Temple, and through their instruction 
growing in wisdom, teaches us that to be engaged thus 
in childhood is to be about our Father’s business. We 


34 Personal Religion [paet 

naturally look down upon a child learning a lesson, and 
think that it is no great matter whether the lesson be 
learned or not. Christ opens a widely different view of 
the subject, when he connects even a child’s growth in v 
wisdom with its relation to God : “ Wist ye not that I 
must be in the things of my Father?” (iu rots to v 
Trarpos /xov.) 

But still more remarkable, perhaps, in its bearing on 
our present subject, is the treatment of the duties of 
servants in the New Testament. These servants were 
slaves, and mostly slaves to heathen masters. If ever 
duty took a degrading form, it must have done so 
frequently in their case. If ever of any calling one 
might say, “ There is no divine stewardship in it,” this 
might have been said surely of slavery among the 
heathens. Yet it is recognized in the strongest way, 
that even the slave’s duties may be sanctified by im¬ 
porting into them a Christian motive, and that when 
such a motive is imported into them, the service is 
really done not to the human master, but (marvellous 
condescension !) to the great Head of the Church Him¬ 
self. “ Servants, obey in all things your masters 
according to the flesh: not with eye-service, as men- 
pleasers ; but in singleness of heart, fearing God: and 
whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and 
not unto men; knowing that of the Lord ye shall 
receive the reward of the inheritance : for ye serve the 
Lord Christ^ No less truly, then, than quaintly did 
good George Herbert sing: 

“ All may of Thee partake : 

Nothing can be so mean, 

Which with this tincture (for Thy sake) 

Will not grow bright and clean. 

“ A servant with this clause 
Makes drudgery divine. 

Who sweeps a room, as for Thy laws. 

Makes that and the action fine.” 

Now if botli a child’s education, and a slaveV 
drudgery find their place in the vast system of God’s 


I.J lath Active and Contemplative. 35 

service, what lawful calling can we suppose to be ex¬ 
cluded from a place in that system ? 

II. But we remark, secondly, that there is a con¬ 
templative element in the service of the Seraphim,—« 
that their activity is fed from the springs of their 
devotion. There are two chief passages of Holy Scrip¬ 
ture (one in the Old and one in the New Testament) 
in which we obtain a glimpse of angels engaged in 
worship. One is that before us, in which the prophet 
sees the Seraphim, with veiled faces and feet, crying 
one to another before the throne, “ Holy, holy, holy, is 
the Lord of hosts ; the whole earth is full of His glory.” 
This was a heavenly scene. It was enacted in the 
Temple, which represented Heaven. But in the New 
Testament we find the Seraphim domesticating them¬ 
selves upon earth, in the outlying field of a village 
where cattle were penned. When the Lord of Heaven, 
laying aside the robe of light and the tiara of the 
rainbow, appeared among us in the form of an infant 
cradled in a manger, He drew an escort of the Seraphim 
after Him: “ And suddenly there was with the angel 
a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and 
saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth 
peace, good will toward men.” 

The ministry of angels then is only half their life. 
The other half, which indeed makes their ministry 
glow with zeal, is their worship. And so it must he 
with God’s human servants. 

The activity which flows from ambition, the dilL 
gence which is purely mechanical and the result of 
habit, is not angelic diligence and activity. To 
attempt to lead the spiritual life without devotion is 
even a greater mistake than to go apart from our 
duties in order to lead it. Our flying on God’s 
errands will be an uuhallowed flight, if we do not first 
secretly adore Him in our hearts. A prayerless day 
of hard work, consecrated by no holy meditation, oh, 
what a dull, plodding, tramping day is it! How do 
we spend money in such a day for that which is not 
bread, and our labour for that which satisfieth not! 
d 2 


36 


Personal Religion [part 

How does God in such a day deal with us, as with the 
Egyptians of old, taking off the chariot-wheels from 
our work, so that we drive it heavily ! How, if we 
turn our mind to better things in the stillness of the 
night, does the Lord seem to stand over the bed, and 
reprove all that godless toil and turmoil, which in a 
spiritual point of view has run to waste, with this 
loving irony: “ It is but lost labour that ye haste to 
rise up early, and so late take rest, and eat the bread 
of carefulness; for so He giveth His beloved sleep!” 
And in these times in this country the danger of the 
vast majority of men—your danger, perchance, reader 
-—lies in this direction. Activity is now, if it ever 
was, the order of the day with all classes. Competi¬ 
tion, and the cry for qualified persons in every depart¬ 
ment of industry, are driving all drones out of the 
social hive. No one has a moment to spare. The 
strain and stress of occupation frequently proves too 
great for feeble bodies and sensitive minds. And with 
those who are physically and intellectually equal to 
cope with the pressure of multiplied and urgent 
business, the mind too often burrows and is buried in 
its work, and scarcely ever comes out to sun itself in 
the light of Heaven. With a fatal facility we dispense 
ourselves from prayer, and meditation, and self-exami¬ 
nation, on the ground of fatigue, or pressing avocations, 
or necessity of refreshment. Yet secret devotion is 
the source, not of strength only, but of comfort, and 
even of success, in any high acceptation of the word. 
Success is no success, if it makes not a happy mind; 
and the mind which is not holy cannot be happy. A 
good author, writing before the invention of the 
compass, says,—“ Even when your affairs be of such 
importance as to require your whole attention, you 
should look mentally towards God from time to time, 
as mariners do, who, to arrive at the port for which 
they are bound, look more up towards Heaven than 
down on the sea on which they sail; thus will God 
work with you, in you, and for you: and all your 
labour shall be accompanied with consolation.” 


37 


I *.| both Active and Contemplative. 

Hitherto we have been founding our remarks bn a 
passage of Holy Scripture, which represents to us the 
employment of angels. And it may be thought by 
some that the nature of angels being probably exempt 
from those infirmities which beset ours, and not ex¬ 
posed to the pressure of weariness or the urgencies of 
appetite, they are in truth no suitable model for us, or 
at all events a model which, from the disparity of their 
circumstances, can only put us out of heart. But have 
we no instance of a life, both eminently practical and 
eminently devout, led in the flesh, and under the 
constant pressure of physical infirmities? Has man 
never yet attained to live the angelic life upon earth ? 
Indeed he has done so; and the record of his having 
done so is in the Gospels. There was One “ tempted 
in all points like as we are, yet without sin,” who 
followed up days of active benevolence, in which He 
spent and was spent for the people, by nights of prayer. 
Consider only that touching passage of His history, in 
which, after receiving the announcement of the Bap¬ 
tist’s death, our Lord expresses a natural desire for 
privacy and repose. The multitudes, however, track 
Him to His place of retirement, and throng around 
Him there with the clamour of their necessities, as 
heretofore. Fallen human nature could hardly have 
done otherwise than vent a slight irritability at having 
its purpose thus rudely crossed; but from the depths 
of that most pure and loving heart there struggled up 
no other feeling than that of compassion, as He looked 
forth upon the sea of human heads. Human misery 
called the Good Shepherd, and He at once responded 
to the call. He healed all the sick whom they had 
brought, and “ began to teach them many things,” until 
the day wore away. Having fed their minds with Divine 
truth, He proceeded to feed their bodies miraculously 
before He dismissed them, “ lest they should faint by 
the way.” And this being done, one might have 
thought that at the close of so laborious a day, He 
would at length have sought repose. But He does 
not so. The pouring out of His soul before the 


38 


Personal Religion [pakt 

Father has been delayed; but it shall not be precluded. 
That His solitude might be entire, He compels His 
disciples to get into the ship, and go before unto the 
other side, while He Himself upon the mountain offers 
His evening orison late into the night. And though, 
of course, no fallen creature has ever maintained the 
same nicely-adjusted balance between devotion and 
active service, which is observable in the mind and life 
of Christ,—though some saints have been (like St. 
John) characterized rather by devout contemplative¬ 
ness, and others (like St. Paul) by zealous activity,— 
yet all His true people have preserved in different 
proportions the twofold character;—all have been 
men of service, and all have been likewise men of 
prayer. 

We have spoken of service and prayer separately, as it 
is necessary to do in a disquisition. Yet we ought not 
to think of them as independent things, but rather as 
closely related and interpenetrating one another. Ser¬ 
vice and prayer are the web and woof of the Christian 
life, of which every part of it is composed. Both are in 
the groundwork of the stuff. Not even in point of time 
must they be too rigidly sundered from one another. 
Prayer at stated seasons is good and necessary; hut a 
man aiming at sanctity in ever so low a degree, will find 
it impossible to confine his prayers to stated seasons. 
He will soon discover that prayer is literally, and not 
merely in a figure, “ the Christian’s breath of lifeand 
that to attempt to carry on the spiritual life without 
more prayer than the recital of a form on rising, and 
retiring to rest, is about the same absurdity as it would 
be for a man to open his casement morning and evening, 
and inhale the fresh air for a few minutes, and then say 
to himself on closing it, that that amount of breathing 
must suffice him for the rest of the day. The analogy 
suggested by this image is, I believe, a perfectly true 
one, and will hold good if examined. The air from the 
casement is very delicious, very healthful, very refreshing, 
very invigorating; it is a good thing to stand at the 
casement and inhale it; but there must be air in the shop, 


!•] both Active and Contemplative. 39 

in the factory, in the office, as well as at the casement, 
if the man, as he works, is to survive. Under this view 
of it, ejaculatory prayer is seen to be even a more essen¬ 
tial thing than stated prayer. Both are necessary to 
the well-being of the Christian life ; but the momentary 
lifting the heart to God,— the momentary realization of 
His presence amidst business or under temptation,—is 
necessary to its very being. The life is no more, when 
this work is suspended. For which reason probably it 
is that the great apostolic prayer-precept is given with a 
breadth which excludes all limitations of time and place, 
—“ Pray without ceasing.” Ejaculatory prayer, how¬ 
ever, must by-and-by form the subject of a distinct 
Chapter, which we will not now anticipate. 

Header, our subject assumes, as we progress with it, 
a more definite shape in our minds. Personal Religion, 
as we saw in our last Chapter, involves growth. Per¬ 
sonal Religion, as we now see, involves prayer,—in¬ 
cluding under that term all the exercises of devotion, 
both public and private. Then are we men of prayer ? 
Let the conscience take home this question and answer 
it faithfully. Let the conscience of men, and of men of 
business, take it home. It is a man’s question, and a 
busy man’s question, rather than a woman’s. Women as 
a general rule have more leisure than men, and have cer¬ 
tainly more of that constitutional temperament, which, 
when God’s grace visits it, inclines to devotion. It is 
in a hard, busy, bustling life, a life which asks an active 
and unimaginative mind, and which chills all approach 
to sentiment,—in short, it is in the life of an Englishman 
of business habits that the temptation to live without 
prayer is felt. How then, in your case and in mine, can 
the searching question be met ? Widely as in different 
ages and different countries the experiences of the 
children of God have differed, this has been the one 
universal experience, the one common characteristic 
without a single exception,—hoary-headed elders, and 
brave martyrs, and wise teachers, and weak women, 
and servants, and even little children, “the great 
multitude which no man could number, of all nations, 


40 Personal Religion both Active and Contemplative. 

and kindreds, and people, and tongues,”—all have been 
people of prayer. Prayer is the very spot of His chil¬ 
dren ; and the more we know of the power of Personal 
Religion, the more distinctly will the spot come out, as 
it were, upon the surface of the skin. Is the spot upon 
us ? Do we enter often into the closet of the dwelling, 
oftener still into the closet of the heart, to commune 
with our Father which seeth in secret ? Unless this be 
our case, all our interest in religion is superficial, not 
personal, and will appear to be so, to our confusion, in 
the day when God shall judge the secrets of men by 
Jesus Christ according to the Gospel. 


PART II. 


THE CONTEMPLATIVE LIFE. 


CHAPTER I. 

OF THE MAGNIFICENCE OF PRAYER, AND THE PRAC¬ 
TICAL DEDUCTIONS FROM THAT DOCTRINE. 

“ He that cometh to God .”—Heb. xi. 6. 

TnE Christian life, as we saw in our last Chapter, 
branches out like the life of the Seraphim, into the two 
divisions of Devotion and Action. We shall speak first 
of Devotion, endeavouring to furnish some thoughts 
which may be practically useful to the reader in his 
efforts to maintain communion with God ; and then of 
Active Life,—the spirit in which its duties should be 
fulfilled and its difficulties surmounted. And as ejacu¬ 
latory prayer is, in fact, the intermingling of devotion 
with action,—as it is the meeting-point of prayer and 
service,—we shall give it a middle place between the 
two, and use it as a bridge, whereby to pass from the 
first to the second division of our subject. 

First, then, to speak of Devotion, which for our 
present purpose may be all summed up in one word, 
Prayer. There would be less of formality in prayer, and 
far more of strength and enjoyment in it, if men did but 
grasp the idea of what prayer is. But simple as the 
idea is, it requires an effort of mind to master it; 
and while we are willing enough to pay mechanically 
our daily tribute of homage at the Throne of Grace, 



42 Of the Magnificence of Prayer, and the [part 

natural slothfulness always recalcitrates against an effort 
of mind. Gradual ascent is as necessary to the mind, 
in order to its reaching a great idea, as it is to the body, 
in order to its reaching a great height. We cannot as¬ 
cend to a pinnacle of a cathedral, which towers aloft 
in air, without either steps or an inclined plane. We 
cannot reach the summit of a mountain without first 
toiling up its base, then traversing its breast, and then, 
successively, crossing the limits where verdure passes 
into crag, and crag into a 'wilderness of snow. Even 
when we have gained the highest point, we are still, it 
is true, at an infinite distance from the blue vault of the 
firmament which stretches above our heads. Still we 
have a better and more exalted view of what that fir¬ 
mament is: we have at least risen above the fogs and 
mists which obscure its glory; and the air which en¬ 
compasses us is transparent to the eye, and invigorating 
to the frame. Now the law of man’s bodily progress 
is also the law of his mental progress. Both must 
be gradual. No grand idea can be realized except 
by successive steps and stages, which the mind must 
use as landing-places in its ascent. But what if the 
mind, after all its toil, should prove unable fully to 
master the idea, as must be the case where the idea 
to be mastered is connected with God and things 
divine ? It does not at all follow that therefore our 
labour has been lost. We have, at all events, risen to a 
higher level, where our view is more transparent, more 
elevating, more sublime, and where the play of the 
thoughts is invigorating to the inner man. And now 
let us apply these reflections to the subject in hand. 

Prayer is nothing more or less than a “ coming to 
God.” Now the bare conception of this thing, “ coming 
to God,” is sublime and ennobling to the highest de¬ 
gree. But we are familiar with the idea, and our very 
familiarity with it—the currency of it among religious 
persons and in religious books—has worn off* the sharp 
edges of it, until it has ceased to have any definite im¬ 
press. Let us seek and pray that the idea may revive 
with some power in our minds. And this we will do 


ii.] Practical Deductions from that Doctrine. 43 

by a series of hypotheses, which shall be as landirijg- 
places for the mind in its ascent. 

1. Let us suppose as the first step that we enjoyed 
the privilege of opening our minds to, and consulting 
in our every difficulty and trial, the very wisest, and 
best, and most powerful man upon earth. Suppose 
that such a person resided in our immediate neighbour¬ 
hood, so as to be at all times easily accessible to us. 
Suppose that his doors stood open day and night, and 
that he had left instructions with his servant never 
to deny him to us. Suppose that, from his repeated 
invitations, coupled with the well-known sincerity of 
his character, we were perfectly assured that he would 
give his whole mind to any case which we might lay 
before him, and consult for us to the best of his ability, 
and with the keenest interest in our welfare. Can 
there be any doubt that the doors of this wisest, and 
best, and most powerful of all men would be besieged 
with applications for admission to his presence, and 
that even where persons in distress were not imme¬ 
diately extricated by his advice, it would be a great 
relief to their minds to hear him say, “ This is an 
intricate case, and will require a great deal of manage¬ 
ment ; but be assured I will bear it in mind, and take 
such measures in it as are most for your welfare?” 

2. But the judgment of even the wisest and best 
men, while in the body, is liable to be disturbed by 
many influences, which death will set aside. Mixed 
up inevitably with earthly interests, and looking at 
things more or less through the medium of public 
opinion, they are not now as impartial judges of truth 
and right as they will be, when separated altogether 
from the world. Let us imagine then this great 
separation to have taken place,—the just man to have 
been “ made perfect,” and to be now lying in Abraham’s 
bosom, his mind stocked not only with the experiences 
of life, but with the thousand additional lessons which 
death will convey. Imagine his spirit to be accessible 
after death (as some foolishly and wickedly pretend 
that disembodied spirits are accessible) to those in 


44 Of the Magnificence of Prayer, and the [part 

whom he felt, while living, the strongest interest. 
Let ns suppose, to make the image more definite still, 
that he is a father, who has always had, during life, a 
word of counsel and sympathy, and a hand of succour 
for his children; and that it has so come to pass that 
death has not cut them off from this resort. Doubt¬ 
less, they would avail themselves of the privilege with 
great eagerness; the difference between the consulta¬ 
tions with the living and the departed parent being 
chiefly this, that a certain awe would rest upon their 
minds in the latter case, from the reflection that they 
had to do with the inhabitant of another world, and 
that the advice given would be doubly valued, coming 
(as, on the hypothesis, it does) from a sphere where all 
errors of judgment are thought to be corrected. 

3. And now for another step in our ascent. The 
Scriptures speak largely of angels, a class of beings 
whose faculties transcend ours in our present state; 
and certain words of our Blessed Lord are upon record, 
which, though they cannot be said to prove, yet, 
certainly, favour the popular idea of the Jews, that to 
each person is assigned a guardian-angel. Assuming, 
then, for the sake of argument, that such guardian- 
angels exist, let us suppose that each of them feels a 
special loving interest in the particular soul under his 
guardianship, trembles for it as in the mad phrenzy of 
transgression it hangs upon the brink of eternal ruin, 
and rejoices for it, and with it, as it is plucked away 
from that brink by the arm of the good Shepherd, and 
brought back to the fold from which it had strayed. 
Suppose, again, in this case that we had each of us 
some power of access to this guardian-angel, that we 
could summon him to our aid,—lay our difficulties 
before him, unburden our minds to him, with the 
assurance of receiving from him both sympathy and 
succour. Can it be supposed that we should not avail 
ourselves of such a privilege, as opportunity offered ? 
that we should never call him to our councils, or 
submit to him our cares ? 

The truth is, that both with regard to angels and 


ii.] Practical Deductions from that Doctrine . 45 

to the spirits of departed saints, the very questionable 
notion that they are accessible to us has been greedily 
caught at and acted upon by the Roman Church. In 
defiance of Holy Scripture, which gives no intimation 
whatever of the possibility of such intercourse, and 
which, even if it were possible, would exclude it, as 
having a tendency to idolatry, and as being a perver¬ 
sion of a religious instinct, the Romanist still calls 
on the Virgin, the saints, the holy Apostles Peter and 
Paul, his own patron saint, and his own guardian - 
angel, to help him in his troubles. A clear proof this, 
that, if such intercourse between this world and the 
other were feasible and sanctioned, it would he abun¬ 
dantly practised by all men, that the wisdom and 
power of creatures above us in the scale of nature 
would be called in aid of our ignorance and feebleness 
at almost every hour of our existence. 

4. But we have now climbed by gradual stages to 
the summit of the mountain, and are left to contem¬ 
plate a privilege, which not only might be, hut which 
is our own, and yet of which (partly from its very 
cheapness and commonness) we either do not avail 
ourselves at all, or avail ourselves in a formal and 
mechanical manner. “He that cometh to God.” In¬ 
asmuch as God is the Infinite One, we can never by 
any reach of the mind grasp entirely the idea of coming 
to Him; but have we not derived some help, some 
clearness of view, some apprehension of the magnifi¬ 
cence of prayer, from the train of thought which we 
have been pursuing? Created power, wisdom, love, 
all have their limits, beyond which they cannot help, 
counsel, or sympathize: our difficulties, our perplexities, 
our sins, might easily outrun them; and access to them 
might not be nearly of so much value as we are apt to 
imagine. But, “ he that cometh to God ”—what shall 
I say of this privilege ? The tameness of human lan¬ 
guage is disappointing when we attempt to describe it. 
Throw into one great sum total all that you have ever 
experienced, or can conceive, of wisdom and power, the 
most far-sighted discernments of results, with the most 


46 Of the Magnificence of Prayer, and the [paet 

absolute control over them,—the keenest intuition into 
character, with every conceivable influence for moulding 
it,—think of a providence not of this earth, which no 
opposition can surprise, and no device counterplot, 
calmly and serenely evolving its own designs from the 
perverse agencies of man, and turning the very arm 
which is raised to defeat it into a minister of its 
will,—imagine a Being so wonderfully endowed that 
the whole keyboard of Nature, Providence, and the 
human heart lies under His hand, and, smitten by His 
mystic fingers, gives forth the harmony which pleases 
Him; and then invest Him in your conceptions with 
an intensity of love, which is not discouraged by the 
deepest moral degradation in its objects, and which 
clings to the person of the sinner with unchilled devo¬ 
tion even while it condemns his sin with an abhorrence 
no less than infinite,—imagine such a Being, and 
imagine Him accessible to man, and you imagine One, 
to whom in their hour of need all the world, unless 
indeed the spell of some deadly fascination were laid 
upon them, would be resorting continually for guidance, 
help, and comfort. But this is no imagination. It is 
a reality. God is such a Being as we have laboured to 
describe. He not only permits, but invites ; not only 
invites, but commands, the approach to Him of every 
comer. And if there be no promise that every prayer 
shall be heard according to the exact tenor of its pre¬ 
scription, yet assuredly there is a promise to all who 
ask,—most simple,—most express,—most universal,—of 
that nourishment of grace for the human spirit, which 
is the alone support of spiritual life: “ If ye then, 
being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your 
children, how much more shall your Father which is in 
Heaven give the Holy Spirit to them that ask Him?” 

But might we not be reasonably barred from this 
access to God by a deep feeling of His purity, coupled 
with the consciousness of our own sin ? Indeed it 
might most justly be so. The Scriptures, and our own 
hearts re-echoing the Scriptures, assure us that in God 
there is, by the very necessity of His nature, a deep- 


II.] Practical Deductions from that Doctrine. 47 

seated moral antipathy to evil. “ He is of purer eyes 
than to behold iniquity.” In His holiness He is a 
consuming fire to the unholy creature. The rays of 
the sun, concentrated in a burning-glass, cause any 
combustible material, upon which they are so brought 
to bear, to become sere, to shrivel, to crumple, to ignite, 
and finally to pulverize. Something analogous would 
be the fate of the sinner who, without mediation, 
should presume to draw upon him the full notice of the 
holy God by venturing into His presence. But we 
know well that God has provided for the removal of 
this barrier. We know well that the obedience of the 
Lord Jesus was such that the holiness of God can 
detect in it no flaw; that His Death and Passion were 
the endurance by the Righteous One of God’s curse 
upon sin; and that the earliest message of the Gospel 
is, that both the obedience and the death of Christ are 
available for every member of the human family, who, 
without an attempt at self-justification, simply throws 
himself upon that plea. The way to come to God, and 
the only way to come so as not to meet with rejection, 
is Christ. “ I am the way: no man cometh unto the 
Father but by Me.” In other words, when the soul is 
to be lifted up in prayer, it must be in dependence 
upon His merits and blood-shedding. It was to sym¬ 
bolize this precious and fundamental truth, that the 
primitive Christians wore a white garment in divine 
worship (which still survives among us under the name 
of the surplice), thus giving a lesson, as they were fond 
of doing, through the eye, that no soul of man could 
appear before God in its native deformity; but that 
before we draw near to the throne of grace, we must 
put on the robe of righteousness, which the Lord Jesus 
wove, and now offers gratuitously to all who sincerely 
confess their spiritual nakedness and shame. 

But it is now time to exhibit the bearing of these 
remarks upon our general argument. Prayer is the 
source and secret of the strength in which the Christian 
must cope with the duties and difficulties of life. And 
one most obvious danger besetting the constantly 


48 Of the Magnificence of Prayer , and the [part 

repeated prayers of persons in active life, is formality. 
Such persons, while too conscientious to abandon the 
habit of stated prayer, soon find that there is every 
temptation to satisfy the conscience with the attentive 
repetition of a form, which takes no hold of the mind, 
and exerts no moral or spiritual influence on the 
temper. Every real Christian is well aware that thus 
to reduce prayer to a form, is to drain away from the 
exercise all its virtue, until it becomes a broken vessel, 
empty of power and comfort. But how to prevent, 
even with the best disposition, its lapsing into a form ? 
The thing is by no means easy, or to be accomplished 
without effort. This is just one of those struggles 
which beset real Personal Religion, and which baffle 
and often make sad the Christian who cannot acquiesce 
in mere respectability, and feels that God has called 
him to saintliness. The design of this treatise being 
to afford help and counsel to such persons, and to lead 
them gradually onward, let me recommend that special 
attention be paid to the beginning and end of stated 
prayers. “ Before thou prayest,” says the wise man, 
“ prepare thyself.” Let the mind, as much as may be, 
be solemnized, calmed, toned down, by taking in the 
thought of the presence of God, and the sublime idea 
of coming to Him. It has been our purpose in this 
Chapter to indicate the path along which the mind 
may travel with interest and profit on such an occasion. 
Endeavour to recall these thoughts, or such as these, 
with a secret aspiration that by grace you may be 
enabled to realize them. Lift up the mind gradually, 
and by stages, to some apprehension, however dim and 
unworthy, of the majesty, the might, the wisdom, the 
holiness, the love of God; and when, to use the 
Psalmist’s expression, “ the fire kindles, then speak 
with your tongue.” The ready excuse for not com¬ 
plying with this advice, which springs to every lip, is, 
w Time; the sort of prayer you describe asks time; 
and my occupations drive me into a corner for time.” 
To which the answer is twofold ; first, that time might 
probably be gained by a very little of that self-disci- 


ii.] Practical Deductions from that Doctrine. 49 

pline, which surely no man should grudge to bestow 
on the work of his salvation. Let conscience answer 
whether, despite all this pressure of occupation, time is 
not continually made for engagements of an agreeable 
nature? and if made for them, why not for more 
serious engagements ? Secondly; that as in other 
things, so in prayer,—a little done well is vastly better 
than more done superficially. Let it be remembered, 
too, that both the precept and the model which Our 
Lord has given us, rather discountenance long prayers. 
We are expressly counselled by Him against using vain 
repetitions, and thinking that we shall be heard for our 
much speaking, while the compression of thought and 
brevity of the Lord’s Prayer is such, as to make it 
desirable that the petitioner should pause a little upon 
each clause, and slightly expand for himself the mean¬ 
ing, as he goes along. 

The end of stated Prayers should also be made the 
subject of some attention and care. It is surprising 
how little this principle has been recognized in books 
of devotion. In manuals of preparation for the Holy 
Communion, for example, how little emphasis is laid, 
as a general rule, on the regulation of the heart and 
conduct, subsequently to the Ordinance! The natural 
recoil from the strain which real prayer always puts 
upon the mind is levity. Against this levity the devout 
man should watch and strive. When we have with¬ 
drawn into ourselves for a while for Communion with 
God, the glare of the world should be let in gradually 
on the mind again, as an oculist opens the shutters by 
degrees upon his restored patient. The impression of 
having had an interview with the King of kings amid 
the ministries of Cherubim and Seraphim should not 
be rudely tossed off, but gently and thoughtfully che¬ 
rished. And it shall be as a nosegay of fresh flowers, 
which a man gathers before he leaves some fair and 
quiet garden, a refreshment amidst the dust and tur¬ 
moil of earthly pursuits. 

Make experiment of this advice, remembering that in 
spiritual as in intellectual discipline, early efforts are for 
r E 


50 Of the Twofold Aspect of Trayer , and the [part 

the most part clumsy failures, and that repeated trials 
are the uniform condition of success: and you shall 
find, under the blessing of God, that your prayers will 
grow in life and interest, and will give that bright and 
happy tone to the mind, without which no one ever 
encountered successfully the duties and temptations of 
active life. 


CHAPTER II. 

OF THE TWOFOLD ASPECT OF PRAYER, AND THE NE¬ 
CESSITY OF PRACTISING IT IN BOTH ASPECTS. 

“ Let my prayer he set forth before thee as incense; 
and the lifting up of my hands as the evening sacri¬ 
fice .”— Psalm cxli. 2. 

It is observable that our Blessed Lord, in His Sermon 
on the Mount, takes up the subject of prayer twice; 
once in the sixth, and again in a totally different con¬ 
nexion, in the seventh chapter of St. Matthew’s 
Gospel. Why, it may be asked, when He was on the 
subject of prayer in the sixth chapter, did He not then 
and there exhaust all that was to be said upon it ? It 
is possible that the answer to this question may be 
found in the twofold aspect of Prayer, which will form 
the subject of this Chapter. Prayer is a means of 
supplying man’s necessities ; this is its human aspect, 
its face towards man. Under this aspect our Lord 
regards it in the seventh chapter, where He gives the 
consolatory assurance that all our real wants shall be 
supplied by it: “ Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, 
and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto 
you.” But Prayer has another quite distinct aspect. 
It is an act of homage done to the Majesty of God. 
Accordingly it is to be performed with the utmost re¬ 
verence and solemnity; there is to be no babbling in it, 
no familiar glibness of the tongue, no running of words 
to waste, but simple, grave, short, sound, well-considered 



II.] Necessity of practising it in both Aspects. 51 

speech. So had King Solomon said long centuries 
ago : “ Be not rash with thy mouth, and let not thine 
heart be hasty to utter any thing before God : for God 
is in heaven, and thou upon earth: therefore let thy 
words be few.” And so says One greater and wiser 
than Solomon, even Christ, “ the Power of God, and the 
Wisdom of God.” These are His words in the sixth 
chapter of St. Matthew’s Gospel: “ But when ye pray, 
use not vain repetitions, as the heathen do: for they 
think that they shall be heard for their much speaking.” 
“ Be not ye therefore like unto them.” In the same 
paragraph, He says that the homage is not to be 
ostentatiously offered, but in the privacy of the closet. 
Privately as it may be paid, the Father will acknow¬ 
ledge it openly. Observe how the promise runs in this 
section of the Sermon. He says not, “ The Father will 
give you the thing asked for;” for that was not exactly 
the aspect under which He was then viewing Prayer; 
but “ He shall reward thee openly,”—acknowledge 
Thee as a true worshipper in the face of men and 
angels. The secret homage of the Saints is to be 
owned at the Nay of Judgment. Their wants are to be 
supplied in the present life. Both these benefits are 
the crown and meed of real believing prayer. But they 
are entirely distinct subjects of thought. 

In our last Chapter we rather looked at Prayer in 
the former of these two views, as a means of supplying 
man’s wants. We regarded it as a pouring out of the 
heart with all its felt necessities, trials, and burdens, 
before God. This it is. But it is something more 
than this. And unless we hold before the eyes of our 
minds this second aspect of it, not only will our view 
be theoretically incomplete, (which of itself would 
signify little,) but practical errors will be insinuated 
into our minds, against which it behoves every devout 
man to be upon his guard. 

Let us turn, then, to consider this second aspect of 
Prayer a little more closely. In the passage which 
stands at the head of this Chapter, the Psalmist very 
beautifully compares Prayer to the things which indeed 
E 2 


52 Of the Twofold Aspect of Prayer, and the [paet 

were types of it under the Old Dispensation, Incense and 
Sacrifice. “ Let my prayer be set forth in thy sight as 
incense, and the lifting up of my hands as the evening 
sacrifice.” With this we connect the words of St. John 
in the Revelation,—“ Jesus Christ hath made us kings 
and priests unto God and His Father.” Every Christian 
is really and truly a priest, consecrated in Baptism and 
Confirmation, (not indeed to minister in the congre¬ 
gation, but) to offer up spiritual sacrifices, acceptable 
to God by Jesus Christ. If it be asked what these 
sacrifices are, the Scriptural answer would be,—first, 
our own bodies, which we are bidden by St. Paul to 
present as “ a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, 
which is our reasonable service:” secondly, our alms¬ 
givings, which the same Apostle declares to be “ an 
odour of a sweet smell, a sacrifice acceptable, well¬ 
pleasing to God; and last, not least, our prayers (in¬ 
cluding under this generic term all the exercises of 
devotion,—confession, intercession, thanksgiving, praise, 
no less than direct petitions for ourselves). As the 
fragrant incense-cloud went up from the kindled coal 
in the censer ; as the sweet savour went up from the 
burnt offering, when it was roast with the fire of the 
altar ; so true believing Prayer, coming from a kindled 
heart, rises of necessity to God, and steals into His 
immediate presence in the Upper Sanctuary. We may 
complete the imagery by observing that the Altar upon 
which these sacrifices must be laid,—the only Altar 
which sanctifieth the gift, and renders it acceptable,— 
is our Lord Jesus Christ Himself, in the faith of whose 
meritorious Cross and Righteousness every prayer and 
spiritual oblation must be made. 

Now is not the view of Prayer which we have thus 
sketched out very distinct, and very important in its 
practical bearings ? Prayer is designed not only to be 
serviceable to man, but honourable to God. It is a 
tax (redounding indeed with unspeakable benefits to 
the tax-payer, but still it is a tax) laid upon our time; 
just as almsgiving is a tax laid upon our substance; 
and if we would render unto God the things that are 


n.'J Necessity of practising it in loth Aspects. 53 

God’s, the tribute-money must be faithfully and punc¬ 
tually paid. This indeed is the inner principle and 
spirit of the fourth Commandment. God says we must 
keep a certain portion of our time clear from secular 
occupations. That time is to be devoted to the ob¬ 
servance of His ordinances, and to attendance upon His 
Worship. It is true we reap priceless blessings from 
this observance and attendance. But the blessings are 
not the sole point to be considered. All our time from 
the cradle to the grave is due to God. Every day is the 
gift of His mercy through Jesus Christ. Therefore one 
day in each week,—and, on precisely the same principle, 
a certain portion of our leisure each day,—must be 
fenced round from the intrusion of secular cares and 
secular business, and reserved for devotion, in acknow¬ 
ledgment that we hold all from Him. Upon this principle 
the stated private prayers of morning and evening should 
be offered punctually, as well as under the other view 
already dwelt upon, that we need something of God, 
and must go and ask it. Think of yourself before you 
kneel down, not simply as a suppliant for help, but as 
a priest addressing himself to offer sacrifice and to burn 
incense. The time of the morning or evening oblation 
is come; the Altar is ready; the incense is at hand; 
the sacerdotal robe of Christ’s Righteousness waits to 
be put on ; array thyself in it; and go into the sanc¬ 
tuary of thy heart, and do the priestly ministration. 

Now let us consider of what practical service these 
reflections may be to us, in resisting those temptations, 
and overcoming those difficulties which beset all earnest 
Prayer. 

Prayer, like faith (of which it is the voice and 
expression), is a thing perfectly simple in idea, but 
exceedingly difficult of execution. If you can pray 
aright, you have mastered the great secret of the 
spiritual life; but easy as it is to understand theo¬ 
retically what right pra} r er is, it is far from easy to 
practise it. The difficulties, if traced to their origin, 
arise, no doubt, very much from the fact that our 
adversary the Devil is fully aware of the power of real 


54 Of the Twofold Aspect of Prayer, and the [pabt 

Prayer, and therefore sets in operation all his devices to 
harass, distract, and disquiet every earnest petitioner. 
So long as a man’s prayers are dead and lifeless exer¬ 
cises, and act as an opiate to the conscience, without 
exercising any sanctifying influence on the character, 
of course it meets with no opposition from this quarter; 
but let it once pass out of the domain of form into that 
of real communion with God, and it is sure of dis¬ 
turbance in one shape or another,—sure of falling far 
below the mark which the petitioner sets before him. 
Consider what perfect trifles to the Christian even the 
worst trials of life would become, and with what ease 
the most formidable temptations would be mastered, if 
Prayer always opened to him the gate of Heaven, as 
perhaps it has seemed to do on some favoured days ; as 
it might do always, if there were not certain disturbing 
influences, constantly drawing it down, as with the 
force of gravitation, to a lower level. One of the 
earliest of these disturbing influences, of which the 
awakened soul becomes conscious, is the temptation to 
leave off, when the exercise promises to be dry and 
barren, and when the mind is much harassed by dis¬ 
tractions. When we fail to derive from Prayer comfort 
and satisfaction, we become cowards, and run away 
from the faldstool. We give up the attempt, because 
it meets with discouragement at the outset. Now this, 
like most other defects of practice, is traceable ulti¬ 
mately to an error of principle. We have forgotten 
that Prayer (I am now speaking of stated Prayer) 
is an act of homage to Almighty God; we regard it 
simply in its bearing on the spiritual welfare of man,— 
on his inward peace, light, strength, and comfort. We 
become utilitarians as to Prayer, and secretly think 
that where no sensible benefit is derived from it, it 
need not be pursued any further. And if Prayer were 
only valuable for its effect upon the mind of man,—if 
it had no higher significance than this,—the reasoning 
would be just. But if Prayer be truly a sacrificial act, 
an act of ministry on the part of the Christian, a 
homage rendered to the Majesty of Heaven, then to 


II.] Necessity of practising it in loth Aspects. 55 

abandon it in disgust, because it cannot be performed 
with entire comfort and satisfaction to our own minds, 
instead of being regarded as a recognition of the spi¬ 
rituality of Prayer (which is the light we are apt to 
view it in), ought to be regarded as a dereliction of 
duty. It is a peevish indulgence of self, by which God 
is robbed of His incense.—Nay,—let the rule invariably 
be this ; where you cannot pray as you would , pray as 
you can. It was the quaint but excellent saying of an old 
saint, that a man should deal with distractions in Prayer 
as he would deal with dogs, who run out and bark at 
him when he goes along the street,—walk on fast and 
straightforward, and take no notice of them. Per¬ 
severe in presenting yourself to God during the period 
for which the Prayer ought to last, and would last 
under happier circumstances. He loves to draw out 
perseverance in Prayer, loves the indication thus given 
that, amidst all discouragements, the soul clings obsti¬ 
nately to Himself; and very early in the world’s 
history He signified His approval of this temper of 
mind by rewarding and crowning, as He did, Jacob’s 
struggle with the Jehovah-Angel. Something obscure 
and mysterious will always hang over that passage of 
Old Testament history. But we cannot err in regarding 
the Patriarch’s words, “ I will not let thee go, except 
thou bless me,” as designed to teach us a lesson of 
perseverance and resolute determination in our inter¬ 
course with God, amidst all the difficulties by which 
earnest Prayer is beset. 

It must be remembered that this quiet, resolute 
patience, even amidst the disorders and distractions of 
our own spirit, is probably the most acceptable offering 
which can be made to the Most High. It is an easy 
thing to pray, when our prayer soars to Heaven on the 
wings of a warm emotion, and when the Holy Spirit, 
like a favouring gale, seems to swell the sails which the 
mind spreads to catch His blessed influence. Prayer is 
then a matter of feeling rather than of principle. But 
when we have to woo the gale, and yet the gale comes 
not, when the vessel has constantly to be set on dif- 


56 Of the Twofold Aspect of Prayer, and the [part 

ferent tacks, and yet seems to make little or no way 
towards the shore, it is then that our fidelity in paying 
our homage to God is tested and approved. And let us 
be sure that it will not be long tested and approved, 
before it is rewarded. We shall not long wait on the 
Lord, without renewing our strength. We shall not 
long persevere in asking, amid repulses, before He will 
turn and open to us the treasury of His bounty, and 
say to us, as to the Syrophoenician of old, “ Great is thy 
faith; be it unto thee even as thou wilt.” Yet if the 
blessing come not in the shape of sensible comfort, 
resign thy will to God’s Will, and that resignation itself 
shall be an acceptable sacrifice. Thou worshippest Him 
not for the mere comfort of worshipping Him, but 
because He is infinitely worthy of homage from every 
knee and lip. “ How many courtiers be there,” says an 
excellent writer on devotion, “ that go an hundred times 
a year into the prince’s chamber, without hope of once 
speaking with him, but only to be seen of him. So 
must we, my dear Philothea, come to the exercise of 
Prayer purely and merely to do our duty, and to testify 
our fidelity. If it please His Divine Majesty to speak, 
and discourse with us by His holy inspirations and in¬ 
terior consolations, it will be doubtless an inestimable 
honour to us, and a pleasure above all pleasures; but if 
it please Him not to do us this favour, leaving us with¬ 
out so much as speaking to us, as if He saw us not, or 
as if we were not in His Presence, we must not for all 
that go our way, but continue with decent and devout 
behaviour in the Presence of His Sovereign Goodness ; 
and then infallibly our patience will be acceptable to 
Him, and He will take notice of our diligence and per¬ 
severance; so that another time, when we shall come 
before Him, He will favour us, and pass His time with 
us in heavenly consolations, and make us see the beauty 
of holy Prayer 

We have been exhibiting Prayer under its aspect of 
homage,—the aspect in which it has reference to God’s 

1 S. Francois de Sales, Introduction & la Vie devote. 


ii.] Necessity of practising it in loth Aspects. 57 

glory rather than man’s wants. We are confident that 
by many excellent and devout people this aspect of it is 
altogether dropped out of sight. And we are sure also 
that this defective view leads frequently to a degenerate 
style of Prayer. . Eobbed of its character of homage. 
Prayer soon becomes an entirely selfish thing; and the 
petitioner, when engaged in it, soon comes to regard every 
thing as beside the mark, which has no reference to his 
own immediate necessities. It is very desirable to re¬ 
deem Prayer from this exclusively selfish character ; to 
give it a wider scope and a grander bearing; and the 
keeping in mind what has been said of it as an act of 
homage and priestly service will perhaps help us in 
achieving this desirable end. But definite practical rules 
may be given, which will not be long acted upon with¬ 
out giving a better tone to our devotions. There are 
parts of Prayer which cannot be selfish, which directly 
seek either the interests of others, or the glory of God; 
—see that these parts be not absent from your prayers. 

First ; intercede for others, and acquire the habit 
of interceding. Consider their wants, trials, and dif¬ 
ficulties, and bear them upon your heart, as you bear 
your own, before the Throne of Grace. Intercession is 
a priestly service. Christ, the great High Priest, inter¬ 
cedes for us all above. And we, if we would prove our¬ 
selves members of God’s Eoyal Priesthood upon earth, 
and perform with fidelity those spiritual sacrifices which 
we were consecrated in Baptism to present, must inter¬ 
cede for others. It is truly lamentable to think how 
defective in this point of view are the devotions of the 
best Christians,—how thoroughly well content they are 
that the half-hour daily spent in intercourse with God, 
should be devoted entirely to their own struggles, their 
own trials, their own wants. So little proficients are 
they in Charity,—and so little—so very little—can they 
realize the constant “ our ” and “ us ” of the Lord’s 
Prayer,—whereby Christ teaches us, in a way more 
emphatic than many sermons, that we should pray as 
members of a family,—with the wants, sins, tempta¬ 
tions, burdens of the whole family continually upon our 


58 Of the Twofold Aspect of Prayer , and the [pabt 

hearts. Until we can in some measure do this, we do 
not pray after the Lord’s model. 

Secondly; let Praise—I say not merely thanksgiving, 
but Praise—always form an ingredient of thy prayers. 
We thank God for what He is to us; for the benefits 
which He confers, and the blessings with which He 
visits us. But we praise Him for what He is in Him¬ 
self,—for His glorious excellences and perfections, in¬ 
dependently of their bearing on the welfare of the 
creature. In Praise the thought of self vanishes from, 
and is extinguished in, the mind; and therefore to be 
large and fervent in Praise counteracts the natural 
tendency to selfishness which is found in mere Prayer. 

Think not, 0 man, whosoever thou art, that God 
will dispense with this tribute of Praise from thee! 
Remember that, merely as man, thou art the High 
Priest of all creation, a little miniature of the Universe 
in thyself, representing the Angels in virtue of thy 
immortal spirit, the lower creatures in virtue of thy 
sensations and appetites, and matter in virtue of thy 
body. Thus, when thou singest Praise, all Creation (in 
a manner) sings in thee and with thee. 

And it shall often happen that when thy heart is 
numb and torpid, and yields not to the action of 
Prayer, it shall begin to thaw, and at last burst, like 
streams under the breath of spring, from its icy prison, 
with the warm and genial exercise of Praise. The 
deadness, the distractions thou deplorest, shall flee 
away as the harp is taken down from the willow, and 
strung to celebrate the Divine perfections. For how 
much is there to kindle the heart in the very thought 
of Praise! Praise is the religious exercise—the one 
religious exercise—of Heaven. Angels are offering it 
ceaselessly, resting not night or day. Saints are offer¬ 
ing it ceaselessly in Paradise. Nature in her every 
district is offering it ceaselessly. From the Heavens, 
which declare the glory of God, and the firmament, 
which showeth His handiwork, down to the dewdrop 
which sparkles with the colours of the rainbow, and 
the lark, who tunes her cheerful carol as she salutes 


ii.] Necessity of practising it in loth Aspects . 59 

the rising sun, the whole Creation sends up one grand 
chorus of Praise to the throne of God. Thou shalt 
feel that thou art not alone in offering it, that every 
act of true Praise is social, and, as it were, choral, 
though offered in solitude. “ All saints far on earth, 
and in Paradise, feel without knowing it, the impulse 
of each other’s adoration, and join in with it, like 
strings that vibrate to the same tone, without touching 
each other 2 .” And the sense of sympathy in the exer¬ 
cise shall kindle life in thee, and the soul shall recover 
its benumbed energies, and prayer shall be no more a 
painful wrestling with thy own mind, hut a solace, and 
a strength, and a light, and a healing. 


CHAPTER III. 

THE SECRET OE SUCCESS IN' PRAYER. 

“ And in the morning, as they passed by, they saw the 
fig-tree dried up from the roots. And Veter called 
to remembrance saith unto him, Master, behold, the 
fig-tree which thou cursedst is withered away. And 
Jesus ans wering saith unto them, Have faith in God. 
For verily I say unto you, That whosoever shall say 
unto this mountain, Be thou removed, and be thou 
cast into the sea ; and shall not doubt in his heart , 
but shall believe that those things which he saith shall 
come to pass ; he shall have whatsoever he saith .”— 
Mark xi. 20—23. 

It is very observable that the remarks which Our 
Blessed Lord makes on the incidents presented to Him, 
and His comments on the sayings which were dropped 
in His presence, do not at all meet our natural antici¬ 
pations of what the occasion required. Merely human 


2 Rev. Charles Marriott. Thoughts on Private Devotion. 



60 The Secret of Success in Trayer. [part 

comments on what is said or done in society are almost 
always obvious; and they are so, because they are 
shallow, caught up rapidly from the surface of the 
subject, and flung abroad at random upon the appre¬ 
hension of the hearers. But infinite wisdom—and our 
Lord is the Infinite Wisdom personified—explores the 
depths of every subject which is brought before it, and 
dives into the heart of every speaker, and answers not 
according to the superficial bearing of the subject, not 
according to the literal expression of the lips, but 
according to the hidden harmony, which it requires 
thought and prayer to bring to light, ;?md according to 
the intent of the heart. 

As an illustration of this, take the words which 
stand at the head of this Chapter, with the circum¬ 
stances which gave rise to them. Our Lord on finding 
a fig-tree barren, which had made a great show of 
leaves, had pronounced on it a solemn curse. In con¬ 
sequence of the curse the fig-tree had withered. The 
disciples seeing it dried up from the roots, call the 
attention of their Master to the fact. And He replies, 
“ Have faith in God,”—and so forth. 

Now, the question is, What remark would a mere 
wise man—one wiser than his fellows, if you will, but 
still a mere man,—have made under such circum¬ 
stances ? Supposing we ourselves were great teachers 
of moral truth;—what comment would have risen to 
our lips on having our attention called to the sere and 
blighted tree? Possibly we might have drawn from 
the circumstance its obvious moral—thus : “ That fig- 
tree is the Jewish nation. Its show of leaves is the 
profession which they make of godliness—‘ We are 
instructors of the foolish; lights of them that sit in 
darkness ; guides of the blind; teachers of the babes,’ 
&c. Its want of fruit is their spiritual barrenness,— 
their want of practice, while they have so much pro¬ 
fession. Its present withered state foreshows their 
future doom,—which is to stand a blighted monument 
of wrath on God’s highway.” But whatever our com¬ 
ment on the occasion might have been, this, I think, is 


61 


ii.] The Secret of Success in Prayer. 

certain, that it would not have been, “ Have faith in 
God.” That is not obvious enough. We know that it 
must be exactly to the point, the precise word for the 
occasion,—because the Infinite Wisdom said it,—but 
it requires a great deal of consideration to see how it is 
to the point. Faith, and prayer, and forgiveness, are, 
no doubt, matters of vast importance; but what have 
they to do, how are they connected with, the cursing 
and withering of a fig-tree ? On the surface we can 
trace no connexion whatever. And we conclude that 
we must dive beneath the surface by meditation, and 
prayer for the Light of God’s Spirit, if we would catch 
the silver thread, on which are strung these beautiful 
diamonds of holy instruction. 

The outline of the connexion is probably this:— 

St. Peter’s expression was, “ Master, behold the fig- 
tree which thou eursedst is withered away.”—That 
was his language. What was the thought of his heart, 
which spoke itself out in that language P Probably of 
this kind. “• What words of power are thine, 0 Master! 
Thou spakest yesterday a few simple words, ‘ No fruit 
grow on thee hereafter for ever.’ Thou spakest them 
quietly, as thou ever speakest. No immediate sign 
followed. The earth did not tremble at thine utter¬ 
ance. The vault of heaven did not echo it back in 
thunder. All things seemed unchanged around us. 
The insect hummed upon his way in the morning sun, 
and the waggoner trolled his song, as he drove past us 
with his market-stores—and we dropped the word out 
of our memory. But it has not fallen to the earth. 
Fallen to the earth! no, it was a power-word. No 
sooner said than done. The word sped to its accom¬ 
plishment, as an arrow speeds to the mark. The 
imprecation yesterday;—to-day, in visible and due 
development, the blight!—‘ Behold ! the fig-tree that 
thou eursedst is withered away.’ ” “ And Jesus an¬ 

swering, said unto them”—possibly, as if to answer 
his thoughts, He fixed His wonderful eye upon the 
speaker, in the assurance that He explored his inmost 
sou l_« Have faith in God.” As if He had said, “ My 


(32 The Secret of Success in Trayer. [pabt 

words are power-words indeed. They take effect— 
immediate effect. They are not spoken in the air; 
they achieve something. Little children, ye shall be 
as your Master. I will teach you to speak power-words 
like mine. Your prayers for good shall speed to their 
accomplishment, as surely and as fast as my prayer for 
evil upon the fig-tree. Ask, and ye shall have. Ask¬ 
ing and having shall be linked together as closely as 
the cursing and the withering of the fig-tree,—if only 
ye will ask in faith,—if only, on the ground of God’s 
promise made to prayer, you will believe, while ye ask, 
that you receive the object of your petitions. This and 
another condition—that you forgive injuries,—that you 
pray in love as well as in faith—this shall ensure the 
success of your Prayers. You, like your Heavenly 
Father, shall speak, and it shall be done—you, like 
Him, shall command, and it shall stand fast.” 

Such is the connexion of thought between our Lord’s 
words, and the occasion which gave rise to them. Let 
us now learn from them the secret of successful prayer. 
Prayer is, without doubt, the great means of advance 
in Personal Religion and the spiritual life. But it is 
surprising, and most disheartening, how very little pro¬ 
portion the progress of religious persons bears to their 
prayers. Were the prayers formal,—that is, were they 
said without seriousness and attention, and without any 
corresponding effort to amend the life, of course the 
account of this barrenness would be obvious. But this 
is by no means the case. The petitioner, in the case 
which we are supposing, seriously and earnestly desires 
spiritual blessings. He gives serious and close atten¬ 
tion to the words which he employs in prayer. He 
strives to realize, when he employs them, the awful 
Presence of God. Yet somehow or other the prayer is 
not so successful as it should be. It may calm his 
mind, quiet his spirit, spread a general sensation of 
happiness over his soul; these are what I may call the 
natural influences of Prayer; but it does not seem that 
he is substantially the better for it. There is a great 
mass of Prayer, and very little sensible improvement,— 


63 


II.] The Secret of Success in Prayer. 

very little growth in grace. Years roll on; and his 
character is still very stagnant in any spiritual view of 
it; excellent, upright, and devout as far as man can 
mark, he has not made much progress in Divine things. 
The many, many words of Prayer seem spoken in the 
air; they are sent forth into the vast world of spirits, 
like Noah’s raven from the ark, never to return again. 

Is this true as a general description, if not to the 
full extent, of any one who reads these lines ? Then 
let me invite such a person to consider the secret of 
successful Prayer, as explained by our Lord Himself. 
May it not be that your words are not words of power, 
because they are not words of Faith ? You pray rather 
as a duty, than in the definite expectation of any thing 
to be gained by it. You pray attentively, seriously, 
devoutly ; and you go your way with a feeling of satis¬ 
faction that you have done well upon the whole, and 
there the matter ends. In the ancient augury by birds, 
as soon as the augur had made the preliminary arrange¬ 
ments,—covered his head, marked out the heavens with 
his staff, and uttered his prayer,—he stayed on the spot, 
watching for the first appearance of the birds,—he was 
on the look out for the result. But this is just what 
many Christians fail to do in regard of their prayers; 
they have no expectation of being benefited by them; 
they do not look for the blessing to which, in virtue 
of God’s promise in Christ Jesus, the prayer entitles 
them. If, some day, after praying for the Light of 
God’s Spirit, they were to find in the study of His 
Word a wonderful clearing up of things which had been 
dark before, and a lucid apprehension of Divine Truth, 
they would be inwardly surprised, from the mental habit 
of disconnecting Prayer with its effect, and would say, 
“What do I owe this to?” Now what would this 
surprise argue ? What does the want of expectation 
that good will result to us from our prayers prove 
respecting our state of mind ? Surely that we have no 
definite belief that the blessing will be granted,—in a 
word, no faith in God’s promise, which connects Prayer 
with the answer to Prayer,—the word with the power. 


64 The Secret of Success in Trayer. [part 

The Scriptures lead us to suppose that there is no 
height of holiness to which, in the might of God’s 
Spirit, we cannot attain. There is no reason why we 
should not be so full of love and zeal,—why our souls 
should not be so penetrated at all times with a sense of 
Christ’s Love and Presence, that we should breathe 
habitually the element of praise, and that every meal 
should become a Sacrament. I say there is no reason, 
except such as resides in ourselves. And the difficulties 
which reside in ourselves, and result from our corrupt 
nature, hard heart, stubborn will, and so forth, the 
Spirit of God lias overcome in numberless instances of 
saints of old, and may overcome in us. “ Is the Lord’s 
arm shortened, that it cannot save; or His ear heavy, 
that it cannot hear?” “The power that worketh in 
us” is, as we read, “ able to do exceeding abundantly 
above all that we ask or think.” This is admitted in 
theory by all. But now, when we come to pray, and 
to set before us this high standard of holiness as an 
object of ambition, a subtle unbelief rises and spreads 
like leaven in the heart. We have no notion (the 
truth had better be told candidly) that God either 
will or can make us eminent saints. Perhaps He may 
help us a little to overcome this evil temper, to rid 
ourselves of that bad habit, and may make us, very 
gradually indeed, fair average Christians; but as for 
any great progress, any high pinnacle of virtue, that is 
out of the question with our temptations and under our 
circumstances. We have not leisure enough. We 
have not time enough for prayer; and we cannot get 
time. Our passions are strong and in their heyday. 
The least cross turn of things in the day upsets our 
temper. We are men hurried with engagements, all 
hot with a thousand secular interests; or we have a 
mighty passion for human praise and the laurels of 
earthly distinction: you cannot make saints out of 
that material. It is an impossibility. You might as 
well advance to the brink of one of the lakes that lie 
embosomed in Alpine scenery, and command the 
enormous granite mountains that tower above you to 


II.] The Secret of Success in Prayer. 65 

descend and cast themselves into the sea. They would 
not answer you. There would be neither voice nor 
hearing. And the evil tempers and corrupt inclinations 
will not answer us, when in the might of Prayer we 
command them to come out. Something like this is 
too often the secret process of our hearts, when we 
kneel down to pray. Now I am not going to plead 
for a fanatical view of answers to Prayer. I have no 
great faith in sudden revulsions of feeling, or instanta¬ 
neous conversions. I know full well that growth in 
Grace, as in Nature, may he so rapid as to be un¬ 
healthily rapid, as to indicate shallowness and want of 
depth. But one thing I do believe,—to disbelieve 
which were the most unreasonable of all follies,—to 
believe which is the dictate of the calmest, soberest, 
purest, highest reason. One thing I do believe,—more 
surely than the evidence of the senses, for they may be 
imposed upon;—more surely than those self-evident 
axioms, upon which mathematical truth is built, for 
those axioms are only spun out of the human mind, 
and not external to it. I do believe that God is true. 
I do believe that whenever God makes a promise, He 
will assuredly fulfil it. I do believe that if you or I 
come under the terms of the promise, He will fulfil it 
to us. I see that He has promised the Holy Spirit to 
them that ask Him: and it were blasphemous not to 
believe that the Holy Spirit is able to surmount any 
and every difficulty. 

Therefore if I have ever secretly reasoned as above, 
if such has ever been the secret process of my heart, I 
stand convicted of unbelief. It is no marvel that God 
has withheld the blessing, if I so dishonoured Him in 
my heart as never seriously to believe that He could or 
would bestow it. And, in future, if I would meet with 
success, I must come to the Throne of Grace with an 
undoubting mind. Having launched my petition into 
the world of spirits, I must stand (like good Habakkuk) 
upon the watch, and set me upon the tower, and must 
watch to see what He will say to me. Having prayed 
“ Show me a token for good,” I must wait, like the 


66 The Secret of Success in Prayer. [part 

augurs, looking up to Heaven until the token comes. 
I must in the depth of my inmost heart expect to 
receive what I ask for. And then if, besides this, my 
prayer be a prayer of Love,—if, while I breathe it, my 
heart goes forth on an errand of forgiveness towards 
the man who has thwarted or striven to injure me,— 
then the answer cannot long tarry. The prayer-word 
must in that case be a power-word. The effect must 
be in that case as surely linked to the petition as the 
blighting of the fig-tree was linked to the Saviour’s 
malediction. “ Though it tarry, wait for it; because 
it will surely come, it will not tarry.” 

Before concluding this Chapter, we will give one 
simple piece of advice, by way of rendering more 
practical what has been said. 

Strive to acquire the habit of asking definitely for 
particular graces of which you stand in need, and of 
expecting a definite result. For example; what point 
of character was it in which you found yourself most 
deficient in the examination which preceded your last 
Communion ? Until the next Communion comes round, 
let that particular grace, whether it was purity, or 
humility, or patience, or zeal, or love, be made the 
subject of a distinct petition in your prayers. Ho not 
forget the petition; always have it in your mind’s 
eye; try to expect the result,—to assure yourself, on 
grounds of simple reason, that, as you have sown, so 
you will, in due season, reap. 

Some may ask, and it is well that they should have 
a distinct and unequivocal answer,—“ Where is my 
warrant for believing that?” There are many war¬ 
rants. We will take that which seems least capable 
of being evaded. It occurs in Luke xi. 13. Read it 
over before you make your da% petition, and remember 
that, whatever else may be false, this must be true. 

“If te then, being evil, know how to give 

GOOD GIFTS UNTO TOUR CHILDREN: HOW MUCH MORE 
SHALL TOUR HEAVENLT FATHER GIVE THE HOLT 

Spirit to them that ask Him?” 

It will be admitted that if, after saying that , God 


G7 


ii.] The Secret of Success in Trayer. 

were to withhold the Holy Spirit from those that ask 
Him, He would be raising expectations which would be 
disappointed,—a thing plainly abhorrent to His cha¬ 
racter. I must also call particular attention to the 
fact, that the one only condition which this promise 
contemplates, in the persons to whom it is addressed,— 
is the asking. If you ask, then, clearly and beyond 
the shadow of a doubt you are entitled to receive. 
You may be very sinful at present, very weak, very 
different in many respects from what you wish to be; 
that is all beside the mark. The terms of the promise 
under which you must come, if you desire its fulfilment, 
are not that you shall be holy, but only that you shall 
he an asker. 

Glorious promise! so sublime! “If ye, being evil, 
know how to give good gifts to your children ” (why, 
we know that the tenderness and love of human parents 
is proverbial) : “ how much more shall your heavenly 
Father give ”—Give what ? Health, and freedom from 
pain, and a sound mind in a sound body ? Good things 
these; but He will give something better. What then? 
Long life, and many days ? Ah! it might be only a 
grief of heart to thee ;—no, something better. Large 
store of silver and gold, flocks and herds, and great 
worldly well-being ?■—Ah ! the canker of self-indulgence 
might convert it all into a curse ;—no, something better. 
Lofty distinction, high posts, crowns, and empires, and 
a great name,—all the kingdoms of the world and the 
glory of them? Hay, better, much better. “ The 
Holy Spirit,” to be the soul of thy soul, to new-create 
thy moral nature in the Image of God, to dwell in 
thee, and walk in thee, making thy heart His shrine; a 
present stream of joy, and strength, and consolation, 
springing up into everlasting life ;—“ how much more 
shall your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to 
them that ask Him?” Glorious promise! so free! 
Free as the air of heaven to those who will but come 
forth and breathe it. Free as the rivers of the earth 
to those who will but dip a cup in them, and slake 
their thirst. Then come forthwith, and claim this 
f 2 


68 Of Self-Examination. [pabt 

mighty Boon. Come with strong desire. Let the 
heart speak, rather than the mouth. Come in stedfast 
faith, fastening the whole soul upon that solemn asse¬ 
veration,—“ Yea, let Grod be true, and every man a 
liar!” And lo ! your word is a word of power. It has 
unlocked Heaven. Before you call, He answers ; and 
while you are yet speaking, He hears. 


CHAPTER IY. 

OF SELF-EXAMINATION. 

“ And the Lord sent Nathan unto David. And he 
came unto him , and said unto him, There were two 
men in one city; the one rich , and the other poor. 
The rich man had exceeding many flocks and herds : 
hut the poor man had nothing, save one little ewe 
lamh , which he had bought and nourished up : and it 
grew up together with him, and with his children: it 
did eat of his own meat, and drank of his own cup, 
and lay in his bosom, and was unto him as a daughter. 
And there came a traveller umto the rich man , and 
he spared to take of his own flock and of his own 
herd, to dress for the wayfaring man that was come 
unto him ; but took the poor man's lamb, and dressed 
it for the man that was come to him. And David's 
anger was greatly kindled against the man; and he 
said to Nathan, As the Lord liveth, the man that 
hath done this thing shall surely die : and he shall 
restore the lamb fourfold, because he did this thing, 
and because he had no pity. And Nathan said to 
David, Thou art the man." —2 Sam. xii. 1—7. 

In this striking passage of Holy Scripture we see 
King David in disguise brought before his own judg¬ 
ment-seat. His judgment, as chief magistrate of his 
realm, is demanded upon an imaginary case of wanton 



IT 0 Of Self-Examination. 69 

and cruel oppression, the exact counterpart of that 
which he had himself committed. David, not recog¬ 
nizing himself under the disguise which the prophet 
had thrown over him, passes sentence of death and 
fourfold restitution upon the imaginary offender. No 
sooner had the sentence gone out of the king’s mouth 
than the prophet unmasks the muffled and mysterious 
figure which stood at the bar, tears away the disguise, 
and shows to the astonished king himself: “ Thou art 
the man.” How came it to pass that David was so 
incensed with cruelty and oppression in a supposed 
case, though he had remained so long (since his child 
was born when Nathan came to him, it cannot have 
been much short of a year) insensible to the far more 
heinous cruelty and oppression of his own conduct? 
The reason is, of course, that we never judge of our 
own conduct in any affair, as we do of an abstract 
case in which we are not ourselves mixed up, and 
in which our feelings, passions, and prejudices are not 
interested. Moralists have questioned, and there seems 
every reason to question, whether a man can do a bad 
action without justifying it to his own conscience as at 
least excusable under the circumstances,—or, in other 
words, whether evil, without a certain colour, pretext, 
and palliation, can ever be accepted by the human will; 
but the colours and pretexts which serve for our own 
conduct are never available for that of other men. We 
judge them, as David judged the imaginary offender in 
the parable, nakedly, truly, and severely enough. 

It is the object of these pages to give some thoughts, 
which may be practically useful on the subject of Per¬ 
sonal Religion. Now the chief devotional exercise 
which turns Religion into a personal thing, which brings 
it home to men’s business and bosom, is Self-examina¬ 
tion. A man’s religion cannot well be one of merely 
good impressions,—the staple of it cannot well be an 
evaporating sentiment, if he have acquired the habit 
of honestly and candidly looking within. The subject, 
therefore, which we treat to-day, has the closest bearing 
upon the general argument of the work. 


70 Of Self-Examination. [pabt 

Self-examination may be called an arraignment of 
ourselves at our own bar, according to that word of our 
Eucharistic Service: “Judge therefore yourselves, 
brethren, that ye be not judged of the Lord.” It is an 
exercise most essential to our spiritual health; and the 
more earnestly to be pressed on all Protestants, because 
there exists in the Reformed Churches no security but 
that of right principle for its ever being practised. In 
the Roman Church you are aware it is otherwise. The 
system of the confessional, with all its evils and abomi¬ 
nations, may at least fairly lay claim to the advantage 
of exacting a certain amount of introspection from those 
who honestly conform to it. We who have not this 
check, and among whom the work of probing the con¬ 
science with the Word of God is done from the pulpit, 
must at least see to it that we make such work per¬ 
sonal, by applying to ourselves in Self-examination the 
Sermons which we hear and read. 

It is easy,—fatally easy,—with Self-examination as 
with Prayer, to allow the exercise to be drawn down 
from its high moral and spiritual aim to the level of 
a form. A string of questions put to the conscience 
every evening before our evening prayer, never varying 
with the circumstances of the day, turning principally 
upon outward conduct, and answered almost mecha¬ 
nically—this, if the truth must be confessed, is what the 
Self-examination of devout and well-intentioned people 
too often reduces itself to. Not that we at all counsel 
the abandonment of such a practice, where it is done 
with real seriousness and attention. It is almost a 
principle of the spiritual life that ground is never 
gained, always lost, by giving up forms through a dread 
of formality ; the way to gain ground is to quicken and 
vitalize the forms. Nightly examination of the con¬ 
science is any how a safeguard for the performance of 
the duty, and a most excellent preparative for evening 
prayer. But while we continue it, let us strive to 
throw reality and life into it by regarding the great 
duty on a large, comprehensive, and spiritual scale. 

Consider first, the necessity for all of us, in respect 


II.] Of Self-Examination. 71 

both of our sins and of our good works, of an exercise 
like Self-examination. This necessity arises from the 
fact, so distinctly stated in Scripture, that “ the heart is 
deceitful above all things,” and that “ he that trusteth 
in his own heart,”—in its dictates respecting him¬ 
self and his own spiritual condition,—“ is a fool.” It 
has pleased God to illustrate this cardinal truth by two 
grand examples, one in the Old and one in the New 
Testament. It must have been by trust in the subtle 
evasions and plausible shifts of his own heart, that 
David, after committing two of the worst crimes of 
which our nature is capable, so long contrived to keep 
his conscience quiet, but at length was convicted of the 
desperate folly of severely condemning in another man, 
the very faults, which, in an infinitely aggravated form, 
he had been palliating and excusing in himself. And 
it was by trusting in the assurances which his heart 
gave him of his own strong attachment to his Master, 
that St. Peter, secure of himself, was betrayed into the 
weakness and folly of denying Christ. 

May we say that, while all characters are liable to 
the snare of self-deception, those are more particularly 
exposed to it, who, like St. Peter and David, are persons 
of keen sensibilities, warm temperaments, quick affec¬ 
tions ? Probably we may; for affectionateness of 
disposition readily commends itself to the conscience as 
a thing which cannot be wrong, and secretly whispers 
to one, who is conscious of possessing it, “ This gene¬ 
rous trait in you will cover and excuse many sins.” 
An acrid, soured character cannot flatter itself that it is 
right with half the facility of a warm and genial cha¬ 
racter. A man, who sins by passions the reverse of 
malignant, is apt to thank God secretly that he is not 
malignant, totally forgetting that, although not malig¬ 
nant, he follows his own impulses as entirely, and sa 
is as purely selfish as the malignant man. 

But how shall we bring home to ourselves the 
dangerousness of trusting, without due examination, to 
the verdict of our own hearts? We will do so by 
supposing a parallel case in a matter, where we are all 


72 Of Self-Examination. [part 

peculiarly apt to be cautious and suspicious,—the goods 
of this world. Suppose then (and, in a commercial 
country like this, the supposition has been not unfre- 
quently realized) that the chief agent in some great 
speculation is a man, who, though most untrustworthy, 
has all the art of conciliating trust. Suppose him to 
be fluent, fair-spoken, prepossessing in manners and 
appearance, and to be especially plausible in glossing 
over a financial difficulty. Advance one more step in 
the hypothesis, and suppose him to be a private friend 
of many of those who are embarked with him in the 
same speculation; allied to some of them by marriage, 
and, more or less, in habits of intimacy with all. If 
such a person is at the head of affairs, and entrusted 
with the administration of the funds contributed by all, 
it is evident that he might impose upon the contri¬ 
butors to almost any extent. His artful representa¬ 
tions would quiet their little panics, when such arose; 
and he would have it in his power to keep them still, 
while embezzling their resources, until the great crash 
comes, which announces to many of them, as with a 
clap of thunder, that they are bankrupts. Now the 
peril of such trust in worldly matters supplies a very 
fair image of the peril of a still more foolish and 
groundless trust in spiritual things. Our hearts are 
notoriously most untrustworthy informants in any case 
where we are ourselves interested. It is not only 
Scripture which assevers this. We confess it ourselves, 
and re-echo the verdict of Scripture, when we say of 
any slight matter, with which we happen to be mixed 
up, “ I am an interested party, and therefore I had 
better not be a judge.” But while our hearts are thus, 
by our own confession, untrustworthy, there is no one 
in whose assertions we habitually place more trust. 
We think we cannot be deceived respecting ourselves ; 
we know at all events our own motives and intentions, 
if we know any thing. The unkind, the insincere, the 
ungenerous, the ungrateful, never, we think, had any 
affinity with our nature; for we have never, as I 
observed above, admitted these forms of evil, without 


II.] Of Self-Examination. 73 

first palliating and disguising them, and making them 
look respectable to our own consciences. Faults there 
may have been, no doubt, in our temper and our 
conduct;—(feelings and transactions, too) for which 
we feel that we are in account with God; but we leave 
our own heart to manage and superintend the account; 
and it soothes us with the assurance that we never had 
any very had intention, and so the whole affair will 
turn out well in the end,—we need not fear the 
ultimate exposure. Self-love conspires with trust in 
our own hearts, to make dupes of us as regards our 
spiritual account. Proverbially, and in the verdict of 
all experience, love is blind ; and if love be blind, self- 
love, being the strongest, the most subtle, the most 
clinging, the most ineradicable of all loves, is blinder, 
still. Self-love will not see, as self-trust cannot see, 
any thing against us. With these strong partialities 
to self in our own heart ever operative within us, and 
never probably capable, even in the best men, of being 
entirely detached from us, to what an extent may we 
he imposed upon, in that which most vitally and nearly 
concerns us, if we do not from time to time call in and 
examine the accounts! What frightful arrears may 
we he running up, unawares to ourselves, if we do not 
sharply check and suspiciously watch this heart, who 
administers for us the account between us and God! 
And how may this accumulated arrears of guilt hurst 
upon our minds with an overwhelming force when God 
judges the secrets of men by Jesus Christ according to 
the Gospel,—when the divine sentence unmasks our 
sin of those excuses, with which we have been pal¬ 
liating it, and brings it home to us with a “ Thou art 
the man!” 

The first step in real Self-examination is to be fully 
aware of the deceitfulness of the heart, and to pray 
against it, watch against it, and use every possible 
method of counteracting it. But what means can we 
use? We offer a few practical suggestions in answer 
to this question. 

First; as regards our acknowledged sins. We must 


74 Of Self-Examination. [pabt 

remember that their hatefulness, and aggravations, if 
they were publicly confessed, might very probably be 
recognized by every one but ourselves, the perpetrators. 
There are certain loathsome diseases, which are offensive 
and repulsive in the highest degree to every one but 
the patient. And there is a close analogy between the 
spiritual frame of man and his natural; if the moral 
disease be your own,—rooted in your character, cling¬ 
ing to your own heart, it never can affect you with the 
same disgust as if it were another man’s. Every step 
therefore must be taken to stand as clear as may be of 
the sin, while we sit in judgment upon it. In the 
first place, in the case of exceptional and grievous sins, 
might not another sometimes be called in to sit in 
judgment, and so a fairer sentence secured than we are 
competent to give ourselves ? If there be the moral 
courage equal to a perfectly candid avowal,—such an 
avowal as keeps back no aggravating circumstance,— 
and if an adviser is to be had at once holy, discreet, and 
considerate,—why should it not be related to such an 
adviser, that his counsel, prayers, and sympathy may 
be sought ? Surely the Scriptural rule has a founda¬ 
tion of wisdom; “ Confess your sins one to another, 
and pray for one another, that ye may be healed.” If 
however we are aware that such an exposure could not 
be made by us in our present state of moral attainment 
with perfect integrity ,—that we should be casting about 
in it to regain by palliating touches the forfeited esteem 
of him, on whom we threw ourselves thus confidentially, 
—or, in other words, that we are not men enough to 
make ourselves as vile in the eyes of our fellow- 
creatures as we are in God’s eyes,—then, until such 
moral courage is attained by us, (and surely we may 
lawfully pray for its attainment,) we must attempt to 
secure the same end—a fair judgment upon our sin—in 
another way. To stop short of the whole mischief in 
confession to a fellow-creature, would only be to deceive 
him as well as ourselves, and to entangle our con¬ 
sciences more effectually in the snares of hypocrisy. 
We must take another method, and this method will 


II.] Of Self-Examination. 75 

apply to the more usual and common as well as to the' 
grosser sins, of forming an impartial estimate of the 
evil which is in us. Let us only suppose , by an effort 
of the imagination, that we confessed it frankly to such 
and such a person, known for wisdom and goodness,— 
how would he regard us ? what is the measure of our 
sin in his esteem? because doubtless that should he 
the measure of it in ours also. Would there not be a 
shrinking from revealing to such an one, not merely 
sins of a gross or glaring character, but such as the 
world calls trifles,—omissions of private prayer, little 
acts of dishonesty in trade or in respect of an employer’s 
property, falsehoods which have slipped from us in the 
ordinary intercourse of life, impure or sensual thoughts, 
allusions in conversation which might lead the mind of 
others in a wrong direction, conceit of accomplishments 
and abilities, not merely suggested (for no man is 
accountable for the suggestions which the Devil makes 
to him), but secretly fondled and nourished in the 
chamber of the heart ? If we shrink from making such 
disclosures to a wise and good man, why do we shrink ? 
Because we feel that they would lower us in his esteem, 
and we have such a regard of man’s esteem that we 
cannot bear to be placed lower in it. If a person to 
whom we had long given credit for a blameless and 
pious life should come to us, and confess the very sins 
to which we ourselves have recently given way, should 
assure us with evident sincerity that, however good the 
character he maintained, yet he had lived for such and 
such days without prayer, had practised or blinked at 
little dishonesties, or had seriously distorted truth on 
such and such occasions, we might (and, no doubt, 
should) sympathize with the distress of mind which 
the confession evinced, but we could hardly help saying 
within ourselves, “ I should never have expected this 
from him. I should have thought that he would be 
truer to principle, when the stress of trial came.” 
Then, if this be the estimate which we should form of 
another, who had committed our sins, should it not be 
the estimate which we should form of ourselves ? and 


76 Of Self-Eocamination. [part 

is not the comparatively lenient view which we take of 
our own case due to that self-partiality which leavens 
and vitiates our whole nature ? This light in which 
we see the sin as it exists in our neighbour, is the true 
light in which we shall see it at the last day; and to 
see it now in that light, while at the same time we 
believe that the Blood of Christ has entirely cancelled 
it, is the great end of Self-examination, and the true 
fulfilment of the precept: “ Judge therefore yourselves, 
brethren, that ye be not judged of the Lord.” 

But the probe of Self-examination needs to be applied 
to the better, as well as to the worse parts of our 
conduct. The natural heart is an adept in flatteries, 
not only suggesting excuses for the evil, but also 
heightening the colours of the good which, by God’s 
grace, is in us. Where conduct stands the test of Self- 
examination, the motives of it should be called in 
question. We must do in regard of ourselves what we 
may never do in regard of others,—suspect that an 
unsound motive may underlie a fair conduct. It is 
something to be possessed with the knowledge that our 
actions take their whole moral colouring from the 
motives which prompt them. And to apply this 
knowledge practically to our own good actions, and 
thus to discriminate what is hollow and spurious in 
them from what is genuine, is the second branch of the 
great duty of Self-examination. By way of giving 
some serviceable hints for this investigation of our 
motives, it may be briefly remarked that of the religious 
conduct of religious persons a good part is usually due 
to custom. By almost all of us, to a certain extent, 
the Ordinances of religion are attended mechanicalty, 
without repulsion on the one hand, but at the same 
time without any effort or definite aim on the other. 
Again ; certain proprieties and regularities of behaviour, 
whether devotional or moral, are secured by deference 
to the prevailing opinions and habits of society, as is 
shown sometimes by the fact that, when we are in 
foreign parts, and no longer under this restraint, those 
proprieties and regularities are not so carefully main- 


it.] Of Self-Examination. 77 

tained. Again ; many good actions are done, more or 
less, because they are in keeping with a man’s position, 
conciliate credit to him, gain him the praise of others. 
Again; works of usefulness and social (and even 
religious) improvement may be undertaken, more or 
less, from that activity of mind which is inherent in 
some characters, because naturally we cannot bear to 
be standing still, and are constitutionally unfitted for a 
studious, contemplative life. In a real work of benevo¬ 
lence a man cannot but find a very pure pleasure, and 
it is quite possible that this pleasure, and not any 
thought of Christ’s service or God’s glory, may be the 
main motive which actuates him in doing it. And 
perhaps some one will ask whether such pleasure is not, 
at all events, an innocent motive of action ? To which 
the answer is, “ Perfectly innocent; while at the same 
time it does not go the length of being gracious or 
supernatural.” Nature can produce such a motive ; 
it is no necessary mark or token of the grace of God. 
Gracious or supernatural motives must at the least 
have respect to God and Christ, and the world to come, 
and the welfare of the soul. The highest of them, 
defined according to its principle, is the love of Christ, 
and, according to its end, the glory of God. But it is 
probable, alas! that very few actions, even of the best 
men, are prompted exclusively by this motive, unalloyed 
with any sentiment of a baser kind. Nay, generally 
speaking, few indeed are the actions which are done 
from unmixed motives, whether purely good or purely 
bad; and our wisdom is not to be discouraged if we 
find, upon close Self-examination, as we shall assuredly 
find, that much which looks well before men is hollow 
and defective when tried by the touchstone of God’s 
Word. Suffice it, if with trembling confidence we are 
able to make out, that we are under the lead of Grace, 
and following that lead. Motives more defecated from 
the dregs of nature, more purely and exclusively 
gracious, will come, if we press towards the mark, with 
a greater measure of spiritual attainment. If our 
conscience should affirm upon the whole the presence in 


78 Of Self-Examination . [part 

us of earnest secret prayer, that is a great point for 
humble thankfulness; because it is hard to see how 
secret prayer can he prompted by any hut a religious 
motive, or how it can fail to he due to the supernatural 
Grace of God. 

But we must hasten to bring these thoughts to a 
close. And let the close of a Chapter, whose great 
scope has been to render the reader dissatisfied with 
himself, be devoted to assure him that this dissatis¬ 
faction will avail him nothing, except as it leads him 
to a perfect, joyful, and loving satisfaction with his 
Saviour. To have probed their own wounds, and 
pored over their own inflamed and envenomed frames, 
would have availed the poisoned Israelites nothing, 
unless, after such a survey of their misery, they had 
lifted their eyes to the brazen serpent. “ Look unto 
Him,” therefore, “ and he ye healed.” Judged by the 
criterion of the highest motive, nothing can he more 
miserably defective than the best righteousness of the 
best man. It flows indeed from the Holy Spirit within 
him; hut even the influences of the Spirit derive an 
admixture of infirmity from flowing through the 
tainted channels of the human will and affections. It 
was not so with the Lord Jesus. The nature which 
He took of the pure Virgin was subject to all the 
physical, but none of the moral, infirmities of our 
nature. His heart beat always true to God’s glory and 
man’s salvation;—a magnetic needle ever pointing to 
that great pole, not shaken even for a moment from its 
stedfastness by the vacillation of lower and less perfect 
motives. And His singleness of aim, His piety and 
benevolence of conduct is ours,—God he praised,—not 
only to copy, but also to appropriate. Take it, Chris¬ 
tian ; it is thine. Delight in it, as God delights in it, 
and thou shalt be agreed with God, and shalt stand 
before Him at the last day in the white robe, pure as 
driven snow; not having thine own righteousness 
which is of the law, but that which is by the faith of 
Christ, the righteousness which is of God by faith. 


XI.] 


Of Intercessory Prayer. 


79 


t 


CHAPTER Y. 

OF INTEECESSOEY PEAYEE. 

“ They made the breastplate: . and they set it in 

four rows of stones: ... . And the stones were 
according to the names of the children of Israel, 
twelve, according to their names, like the engravings 
of a signet, every one with his name, according to the 
twelve tribes.” — Exod. xxxix. 9, 10. 14. 

The Spouse in the Canticles, who represents the 
Church, cries to the heavenly Bridegroom, “ Set me as 
a seal upon thine heart.” Christ answers this prayer 
by interceding for each of His people in Heaven, by 
bearing upon his heart the wants, trials, troubles, sins, 
of each, and by pleading for each the merits of His 
most precious Death and Passion. In the seventeenth 
chapter of St. John’s Gospel, which contains the great 
high-priestly prayer of Our Lord, we find Him com¬ 
mencing this office of Intercession. “ I pray for them,” 
says He of His disciples. The Intercession then com¬ 
menced ; but it has been continuing ever since; it is 
prolonged through all time; it embraces not the 
Apostles only, but every soul of the redeemed. Of this 
Intercession the breastplate of the Jewish high priest 
supplies a beautiful figure. In the breastplate there 
were twelve precious stones, arranged in four rows of 
three, upon each of which was written the name of one 
of the twelve tribes. The breastplate, of course, when 
worn, would rest upon the priest’s heart,—would rise 
and sink with every palpitation of the breast. When 
he appeared before God in his full sacerdotal attire, 
there would be the twelve names upon his heart r 
indicative of his love and care for the whole people of 
Israel. Names! the names of those with whom we are 




80 


Of Intercessory Prayer. [part 

well acquainted, how much they imply! how true to 
nature is that Scripture idiom, or phraseology, which 
makes the name stand for the whole character! Let 
hut the name of a person familiar to us he mentioned 
in our hearing, and what an instantaneous rush takes 
place into the mind of the personality of the man,—of 
his temperament, manners, features, way of thinking 
and acting, in short of all his physical and mental 
peculiarities! The names upon the high-priest’s breast¬ 
plate betoken the individuality of Christ’s Intercession 
for His people. Not a sparrow is forgotten before 
God. And not a single want or woe of a single soul is 
forgotten by the God-man, when He intercedes. 

It was observed, in a recent Chapter, that every 
Christian is in a certain important sense a priest, con¬ 
secrated in Baptism and Confirmation to offer up 
spiritual sacrifices to God. Accordingly every Christian 
must intercede, because Intercession is one of the 
priestly functions. The Intercession of the great High 
Priest for the whole Church is ever rising, like a cloud 
of fragrant incense, to the Throne of Grace. And it 
should be our ambition to throw, each one for himself, 
our little grain of incense into His censer. The prayer, 
which is offered by the Head in Heaven for the whole 
Body, should be re-echoed by the members here on 
earth. 

The consideration of Intercessory Prayer properly 
follows that of Self-examination. They are at the 
opposite poles of the Christian’s devotional exercises. 
Self-examination is the most interior, as Intercession 
is the most exterior, of those exercises. The one is a 
retiring into oneself and shutting out the whole world: 
the other is a going forth in sympathy and love towards 
other men,—an association of oneself with their wants, 
wishes, and trials. Hence these exercises are very 
necessary to keep one another in check. The healthy 
action of the mind requires that both shall continually 
he practised. By undue and overstrained self-inspection 
the mind is apt to become morbid and depressed, and 
to breed scruples, which tease and harass without 


ii-] Of Intercessory Prayer. 81 

producing any real fruit. The man becomes a vale¬ 
tudinarian in religion, full of himself, his symptoms, 
his ailments, the delicacy of his moral health; and 
valetudinarians are always a plague, not only to them¬ 
selves, but to every body connected with them. One 
tonic adapted to remedy this desponding, timid, nervous 
state of mind, is an active sympathy, such as comes 
out in Intercessory Prayer, with the wants and trials of 
others, a sympathy based upon that precept of the holy 
Apostle s, “ Look not every man on his own things, but 
every man also on the things of others.” 

Observe, first, the great importance attached to this 
duty in Holy Scripture, and in that which is a faithful 
uninspired echo of Holy Scripture, the Prayer Book. 
In the Old Testament you find Abraham winning by 
Intercession the preservation of the cities of the plain, 
on condition—a condition, alas! not fulfilled—that ten 
righteous were found therein. In the New Testament 
you find the early Church winning by Intercessory 
Prayer the preservation of the fife of St. Peter from the 
sword of Herod, on which life was suspended, humanly 
speaking, the existence of the infant community. But 
let us come at once to the Lord’s Prayer, as containing 
by implication the most striking of all precepts on the 
subject. If the Lord’s Prayer is to be the great model 
of Prayer, as it surely is, how much intercession ought 
not our Prayers to contain! This extraordinary 
Prayer is so constructed, that it is impossible to use 
it, without praying for all other Christians as well as 
ourselves. Intercession, instead of being a clause added 
on to it, is woven into its very texture. Break off the 
minutest fragment you please, and you will find inter¬ 
cession in it. Oil and water will not coalesce; pour 
them together, and the one will remain on the surface 
of the other. But wine and water interpenetrate one 
another; in every drop of the mixed liquid there are 
both elements. When ive pray for others, we usually 
add some paragraphs at the close of our ordinary 
prayers, distinct from them, as oil, though placed upon 
water, remains distinct. But in the Lord’s own model 

G 


82 


Of Intercessory Prayer. [paht 

Prayer, the Intercession and the petitions for self inter¬ 
penetrate one another; the petitioner, who uses it ver¬ 
batim et literatim , never employs the singular number. 
A wonderful contrivance indeed, by which the Author 
secures a more important end than we perhaps are apt 
to think of. The Prayer, it must be remembered, was 
given as a kind of watchword for Christians, by the 
adoption and use of which they should he distinguished 
from the disciples of other Babbis, such as John the 
Baptist,—“as a sign of profession, and mark of dif¬ 
ference,” to accommodate the language of our Articles 
to the purpose, “whereby Christian men might be 
discerned from others that he not christened.” Now 
this sign or watchword must necessarily have Love 
woven into its very texture; for what was the appointed 
note, whereby the world was to know disciples of Jesus 
from those who were not His disciples? His own 
words answer that question very pointedly: “ By this 
shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have 
love one to another .” Then in the very watchword of 
the Disciples there must be Love. And this could not 
be more strikingly contrived than by drawing up the 
watchword in such terms that no man could use it as a 
prayer for himself, without at the same time interceding 
for his brother Christians. 

Of the testimony of our Liturgy to the duty of 
Intercessory Prayer we need only say that, after the 
penitential introduction of Morning and Evening 
Prayer, there are, as a general rule, only three collects 
which supplicate blessings for the congregation then 
worshipping;—all that follows is Intercession. The 
latter and longer half of the Litany is intercessory; 
and the Communion Service, after the Introduction, 
begins with Intercession for the Sovereign, and quickly 
passes on to the “ Prayer for the whole state of Christ’s 
Church militant here on earth.” It appears that the 
compilers kept carefully in view the inspired precept 
given for the guidance of public Prayers, “ I exhort 
that first of all,” (it may mean first in point of order, 
or first in point of importance,, or both, hut, any how, 


Ii.] Of Intercessory Prayer. 83 

“first of all,”) “supplications, prayers, intercessions, 
and giving of thanks, be made for all men; for kings, 
and for all that are in authority ; that we may lead a 
quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and honesty.” 

Thus plain, then, is the duty of Intercessory Prayer. 
And the grounds of it are equally plain. The duty is 
based upon the fact that men are one body, and 
members one of another. Whether in Nature or in 
Grace, a man is essentially the member of a family. In 
his moral nature he has certain affections, such as bene¬ 
volence and compassion, which have reference to others, 
and show clearly that, in the design of the Creator, he 
is no isolated creature. And in his spiritual nature too, 
—in his constitution by Grace and in Christ,—there 
are brotherly kindness and charity, which show that in 
the new creature also man is. one Body. And if this 
be so, the weal and the woe of other men, of other 
Christians, must be, to a certain extent, our weal and 
woe,—cannot fail ultimately to reach us. The different 
parts of the living frame of man have a wonderful sym¬ 
pathy with one another: “Whether one member suffer, 
all the members suffer with it; or one member be 
honoured, all the members rejoice with it.” And so, if 
a blow is struck at the body politic either of the State 
or of the Church, in some extremity of that body which 
is very remote from ourselves, the blow cannot fail to 
vibrate through the whole frame, until it reaches even 
us in our distant corner. Few prayers of the Liturgy 
are regarded with such general indifference,—few, I 
fear, would be more readily dispensed with by the 
worshippers,—than those for the Sovereign, the mem¬ 
bers of the Boyal Family, and the Hierarchy; but let 
any reasonable person ask himself, if he desire to see 
the necessity of such prayers, whether he really thinks 
that a general abandonment of these exalted func¬ 
tionaries by the Providence and Grace of God would 
prove in the end indifferent to himself. Suppose the 
court and the clergy, the whole body of our rulers in 
Church and State, to be utterly godless, (and godless 
they must be without the Grace of God,) could such a 


84 


Of Intercessory Prayer. [paet 

state of things be of little moment to me, because I 
happen to be at the lower extremity of the social 
scale? Would not the ungodliness in high places 
reach me, though in a low place, through a thousand 
avenues ? If in no other way, would not God send 
judgments upon the nation and the Church, for the 
ungodliness of their rulers ? If then each of us has a 
real interest in the moral and spiritual welfare of the 
community, it must be expedient for ourselves that we 
should pray for the whole community, and specially for 
those who before God are its Representatives. But, 
expediency altogether apart, if a man’s relations to 
others are, as we have shown, bound up in his own 
nature, he must surely bring his relations and sympa¬ 
thies with him, when he appears before God. Other¬ 
wise, what does he do but virtually say to God, “ Thou 
didst create me a member of a family, to love and to 
care for my brethren; but here I stand before Thee in 
all the isolation of my own selfishness ? ” 

And yet, though both the duty of Intercessory 
Prayer and the grounds of it are thus clear, there is 
perhaps no part of devotion which good Christians more 
systematically neglect. May it not be said that com¬ 
monly even devout persons feel very little interest in 
any Intercessions, except such as touch their own im¬ 
mediate circle of family and friends ? While perhaps 
there are some, who of set purpose hug a sort of 
spiritual selfishness, and would not hesitate to avow 
that for them the personal question of their own 
salvation is indeed the whole of religion. 

Now can we analyze this feeling of disinclination to 
a religious exercise, at once so reasonable and so scrip¬ 
tural ? It seems to be a mixed feeling, having in it a 
good and a bad element. Some, no doubt, shrink from 
Intercessory Prayer, under a feeling that, as coming 
from them, it would be presumptuous. “ What am I, 
that I should plead the cause of others,—I, who have 
so much to ask for myself, and who have no native 
right to ask at all ? Or how can I think that prayers 
from me, like those from righteous Abraham, can win 


85 


ii.] Of Intercessory Grayer. 

any tiling from God for my brethren?” The feeling 
is good, hut mistaken in its application. In the first 
place, what God expressly commands us to do, it can 
never be a presumption to do. If by His holy Apostle 
He has taught us to make prayers and supplications, 
and to give thanks for all men, His command surely is 
enough to exempt such prayers from the charge of pre¬ 
sumptuousness. Had He not commanded them, such 
a scruple might reasonably find place. Prayers for the 
dead are not commanded,—nay, they are implicitly dis¬ 
couraged by the suggestions made in Holy Scripture 
that the state of the dead admits of no change; and 
therefore to offer such prayers is presumption, because 
they are beyond the warrant of God’s express will and 
Word. But prayers for the living are, as we have seen, 
made obligatory upon the disciples of Jesus Christ, by 
the very form of the model Prayer which He gave us 
to use. 

Next, as regards the imagined feebleness and impo- 
tency of our prayers for others,—a feeling which looks 
humble and plausible enough on the surface,—we must 
inquire how far it may possibly resolve itself into a 
half-sceptical question as to the efficacy of Prayer alto¬ 
gether. And if there be in our minds no doubt on this 
head, we should then remember that our intercessions 
do not stand alone, but that in offering them, we co¬ 
operate with the whole Church, and, above all, with 
Christ, the Head of the Church. Do not omit to 
calculate the power of combination. Many very slight 
muscular efforts, put forth imperceptibly, will create, it 
is said, force enough to turn a heavy piece of furniture. 
The smallest contribution made by a vast number of 
people would soon fill a monarch’s treasury. Let, then, 
thy feeble intercession be put forth to move the will of 
God to show mercy to others. Other intercessions shall 
meet it at the throne of grace, which shall convert it 
into a strong force. Yea, His shall certainly meet it, 
which is singly and by itself the strongest of all forces 
with God,—powerful at all times to bend His Will, and 
to impetrate from Him the highest blessings. Rhoda, 


86 Of Intercessory Prayer. [part 

the damsel who admitted St. Peter to the house of 
Mary the mother of Mark, was one of those who were 
gathered together praying for the Apostle’s deliver¬ 
ance. Her prayer was one of those which won from 
God the preservation of this chief Apostle. 

But in our reluctance to Intercessory Prayer we 
must acknowledge, if we be candid with ourselves, the 
presence of a bad feeling, a great want of sympathy 
with others,—or, in other words, a lack of love. We 
feel no interest in them, and therefore do not care to 
pray for them. Now, so far as this is the case with us, 
we must consider, first, that such selfishness invalidates 
and empties of efficacy our prayers for ourselves. Our 
Saviour in His comments on the cursing of the fig- 
tree, lays down, you will find, two great conditions 
of success in Prayer,—the first, that we shall pray 
in faith; the second, that we shall pray in love. How 
does he pray in love, who in his prayer looks only on 
his own things, and not on those of others ? Can he 
hope to win any thing from God, while he is in a mind 
so different from that of God ? It is a great truth, 
reader, that if we desire to gain any thing from the 
Most High, our minds must be set more or less to the 
same key as His. If two harps be strung to the same 
key, hut not otherwise, when one of them is struck, the 
other gives a responsive sound. There must be some 
secret affinity in nature between the lightning of heaven 
and the conductor which draws it down,—between the 
steel and the magnet which attracts it,—between the 
light substances and the chafed glass or sealing-wax, 
towards which they leap up and cling. And in Grace 
there must be a secret affinity between God and the 
soul (this affinity itself being the effect of Grace) before 
the soul can lay hold of God’s Will, and draw out a 
blessing from Him, yea, draw God Himself into it. 

This affinity stands in Love. God, the great Father, 
loves all men. He will have all men to be saved, and to 
come to the knowledge of the truth. He sent His Son 
to save all,—Redemption being, as far as His will and 
intention are concerned, co-extensive with the human 


n.] Of Intercessory Prayer. 87 

race. Therefore he who prays with the largest sym¬ 
pathy, he who embraces in his prayer the widest circle 
of his fellow-creatures, is most in sympathy with the 
mind of God when he prays, has the key of God’s 
heart, and therefore the key of God’s treasury. And 
as for him who prays in the total absence of this sym¬ 
pathy, does it not stand to reason that God must remain 
mute to such a man ? Suppose an entire absence from 
a petitioner’s mind of the fraternal feeling towards 
fellow-men and fellOw-Christians; and what does it 
seem to imply, but an absence of filial feeling ? Is not 
the filial feeling the correlative of the fraternal, accord¬ 
ing to that word of the Apostle: “Every one that 
loveth Him that begat, loveth him also that is be¬ 
gotten of Him ? ” Thus are the two* first words of the 
Prayer of Prayers hound together in an indissoluble 
wedlock; and he who cannot in sympathy and love say 
“ Our,” cannot, in faith and trust, say “ Father.” 

Then pray for others, if you have not yet done so, 
uniting with your prayers, where it is possible to do so 
and opportunity offers, that kindly interest in their 
concerns, which attests the sincerity of your inter¬ 
cessions. Pray particularly for those who have done 
you wrong: nothing tends more to engender that 
frame of mind, which is essential to success. Ho not 
be baffled by the thought that explicitness of request 
is always necessary. The mention of the name, the 
thought of the person before the Throne of Grace, the 
simple commendation of him by Prayer to God’s mercy 
and blessing, is a great point gained, and in numerous 
cases is all that can be done. If we much desire ex¬ 
plicitness, and yet do not know exactly into what form 
to throw the petition, the Holy Spirit, the Gift of gifts, 
which involves holiness and happiness both here and 
hereafter, may always be petitioned for on behalf of all. 
Put, after all, there is much in that beautiful word of 
our Prayer for all Conditions of Men, “ that it may 
please Thee to comfort and relieve them according to 
their several necessities .” God understands those ne¬ 
cessities perfectly; and we may safely ask Him to 


88 Of Devotional Heading. [pakt 

supply them all, according to the understanding which 
He has of them in His Infinite Mind. You may do 
for your friend, or your relative, the same kind office 
which those interested in the poor paralytic in the 
Gospel did for him,—bring him in the arms of Prayer, 
and lay him down in his helplessness before Jesus, 
thus silently commending him to the pity and sym¬ 
pathy of the Infinite Love. You may have many 
thus to commend, parents, brothers, sisters, colleagues, 
helpmates, friends, children and godchildren, masters, 
servants, pastors, parishioners, and may commend them 
all by the simple, quiet, devout recitation of their 
names. Yes, thou mystical Aaron, washed for thy 
sacred functions in the laver of regeneration, and 
clothed in the Righteousness of Christ, forget not to 
wear thy breastplate, when thou goest in to offer up 
a spiritual sacrifice,—neglect not to exhibit silently 
before God, graven upon thy heart, the names of all 
thou lovest; yea, be an intercessor, as far as in thee 
lies, for all the people; for of what member of the 
human family can it be said that he has no claim what¬ 
ever upon thy sympathy and kind offices ? 


CHAPTER YI. 

OF DEVOTIONAL BEADING. 

“ And Elisha died, and they buried him. And the 
bands of the Moabites invaded the land at the coming 
in of the year. 

“ And it came to pass, as they were burying a man, that , 
behold, they spied a band of men ; and they cast the 
man into the sepulchre of Elisha : and when the man 
teas let down, and touched the bones of Elisha, he 
revived, and stood up on his feet .”— 2 Kings xiii. 
20 , 21 . 

We Protestants do not attach virtue to relics, in the 

ordinary sense of that term; but there is a sense, in 



ii.] Of Devotional Heading. 89 

which we may reasonably enough do so. Relics are 
remains; and while we believe that no virtue resides in 
the material remains of a good man, we do not there¬ 
fore exempt from efficacy his mental or spiritual remains. 
If he has left behind him in writing the effusions of a 
devout mind, we believe that these writings, by which 
“ he being dead yet speaketh,” often exercise an influ¬ 
ence for good upon readers, long after he himself has 
passed away, and that thus the miracle wrought by the 
bones of Elisha is continually repeating itself in the 
experience of the Church. Souls are being quickened 
and edified by the instrumentality of books, which 
books are all that remain of their authors. A holy 
man, who lives in habitual communion with God, has a 
living influence on his generation, and also, if he he a 
writer, an influence on posterity. His living influence 
may be compared to the miracles wrought by the 
shadow of St. Peter, or by the handkerchiefs and aprons 
brought to the sick from the body of St. Paul. The 
influence exercised by his writings after death, may be 
fitly compared to the posthumous miracle recorded in 
the text, a miracle which stands alone in Holy Scrip¬ 
ture, and in which it is clearly desirable to find some 
moral significance. 

We shall speak first of the power of devotional 
reading, and then give some practical suggestions for 
the conduct of this exercise. 

I. (1) The power of devotional reading may be seen 
from considering the effect, which constant association 
with the wise and good would naturally exert upon the 
mind. It is an axiomatic truth which has passed into 
an inspired proverb: “ He that walketh with wise men 
shall be wise.” Mere common intercourse with wise 
men, however,—the merely being thrown with them in 
ordinary society, might not, for various reasons, he 
productive of much good. The time might pass in 
remarks upon those trite and superficial topics, which 
are the necessary introduction to something deeper 
and better. We might not be able to get at the 
wise man’s mind. He might be reserved in communi- 


90 Of Devotional Heading . [part 

eating his sentiments, or we might he awkward, and 
wanting in the tact to draw them out. Comparatively 
few persons have the gift, for a gift it is, of lively table- 
talk on subjects of secular interest. How much fewer 
possess such a gift on religious and spiritual topics! 
There are nine chances to one against your coming into 
contact with the mind of a devout person by merely 
being thrown with him in company. To see him in 
society is a different thing from seeing him in his 
closet, pursuing his meditations, and mixing Prayer 
with them. The nearest approach you can make to 
seeing him thus, and it is a very near approach indeed, 
is by reading his works of piety. In them is mirrored 
his best mind at his best moments. Words committed 
to the press are maturely considered and pruned of all 
excrescences, whereas in conversation there is ne¬ 
cessarily much that is extemporaneous, and still 
more that is redundant. Suppose now that we 
were made privy to much of the interior life of men 
eminent for piety,—that they communicated to us the 
counsel, which was the result of their experience in 
religion, gave us their fresh thoughts upon the Holy 
Scriptures, threw out suggestions to us to help us in 
leading a holy life, made in our hearing remarks which 
had a certain heavenly savour and gave a relish for 
spiritual things,—suppose that they were constantly by 
our sides with these counsels, thoughts, suggestions, 
and remarks,—could we fail of deriving benefit from 
our association with them? — must not our minds, 
almost according to their natural constitution and inde¬ 
pendently of the operation of Divine Grace, insensibly 
take a tinge from theirs ? Shall it not be that some 
glowing sentiment of theirs, thrown out t like a hot 
ember from the fire of their zeal, shall light upon com¬ 
bustible material in our hearts, and kindle there the 
flame of Divine love? Often has the opposite effect 
been produced by tales and poems, which have had a 
malignant tendency to stimulate the worst passions. 
If bad books are a very powerful engine in the hands 
of the Devil, as there can be no doubt that they are, 


ii.] Of Devotional Heading. 91 

shall not good and holy books be an equally powerful 
agency in the Economy of Grace? No one who has 
really studied 'personal religion, who has cultivated the 
piety of the closet as distinct from that of the platform, 
will hesitate to acknowledge that they are so. 

(2) But the power of good books may he seen from 
another very important consideration respecting them. 
Spiritual reading has to a certain extent—more entirely 
for some minds than for others, hut to a certain extent 
for all minds—taken the place of preaching: this has 
come about in the order of God’s Providence, which has 
ordained the diffusion of literature through the press, 
just as it has ordained many less important movements. 
Without at all denying that oral teaching has still cer¬ 
tain great prerogatives over teaching by books, that 
in voice, and manner, and generally in the influences 
which go to make up public speaking, there is some¬ 
thing electric and sympathetic, which no mere dead 
letter can ever supply,—and without denying also that 
the form of Christian teaching, which is closest to the 
primitive and Apostolic model, is more likely to have 
God’s blessing upon it than a mere modern form,—it 
would yet be preposterous in the highest degree to say 
that we are as dependent for religious instruction upon 
oral teaching, as the early Church was. We see no¬ 
thing derogatory to the Christian Pulpit in acknow¬ 
ledging that God, in modern times, causes some, 
though not all, of its work to be done by religious 
literature. Such an acknowledgment, if rightly under¬ 
stood, does not degrade the pulpit, but exalts the 
literature. And here we come across a thought, which 
must reappear presently in the shape of practical advice. 
The reading of spiritual books may be regarded, and 
ought to be regarded, more or less, in the light of a 
Divine Ordinance. That Preaching is an Ordinance 
would be generally admitted by Protestants, and indeed 
must be admitted by all who take the New Testament 
as their guide. The only error which is sometimes 
allowed to cloud a little the clearness of the truth so 
admitted, is the narrowing the meaning of the word 


92 Of De votional Heading. [part 

Preaching to a formal discourse delivered by a minister 
in the course of Divine worship. Instead of imposing 
upon the word this somewhat technical and cramped 
sense, take Preaching as being the communication of 
Divine knowledge to men through the instrumentality 
of men : and then Preaching is in the fullest sense an 
Ordinance, yea, one of the chiefest Ordinances of the 
Gospel. “ Faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by 
the Word of God.” It is an Ordinance for the illus¬ 
tration, exposition, and application of Holy Scripture to 
the conscience. Instruction of this kind is essential to 
vital religion; it is the oil of the spiritual lamp, which 
keeps Prayer burning. Only admit that the power of 
Preaching may come to some,—nay, to all, more or less,— 
through a written, as well as through a spoken word. 
Only admit that there may be a hearing in the closet 
with the inward, as in the Church with the outward 
ear. But then this admission involves the duty, which 
we are all so slow to fulfil, of reading, no less than 
hearing, with all the solemnity of a devotional exercise. 
If it is wrong to be otherwise than seriously attentive 
to Preaching in Church, where the preacher is a living 
man, it is equally wrong to be otherwise than seriously 
attentive to Preaching in the closet, where the preacher 
is perhaps a dead one. And we doubt not that if good 
Christians were persuaded that some of the power and 
dignity of Preaching now rests upon the reading of 
good books, and if accordingly they read them with the 
same seriousness of spirit, and desire of edification, with 
which they listen, or try to listen, to formal Sermons, 
such books would be largely blessed to quicken in them 
the spiritual life, and to advance the Kingdom of God 
in their hearts. 

II. But what suggestions may be given as to the 
conduct of this exercise ? First, a discrimination must 
be used in the choice of books. All good books are 
not equally attractive, and therefore not equally 
profitable, to all minds. It is with spiritual very 
much as it is with bodily food. A man by a 
little experience, by a few trials, and by a short 



II.] Of Devotional Heading. 93 

insight into his own constitution, soon gets to know 
that this or that is bad for him, that this or that, 
on the other hand, is for him digestible and wholesome. 
I sa J> f or him. Probably it would be a mistake in 
medicine to assert that, independently of the constitu¬ 
tion, circumstances, and temperament of the patient, 
any particular food was digestible or the reverse. And 
certainly it is a grand mistake in Theology to suppose 
that all the productions of devout writers are equally 
serviceable to every class of minds. It is notoriously 
the reverse. In His Holy Scriptures, which are the 
great fontal abyss from which every work of piety and 
devotion must be drawn, the Lord has given us an 
infinite variety of Inspired Literature. What literature 
is there which does not find itself represented in the 
Holy Scripture,—poetry, history, biography, proverbs, 
letters, fables, allegories ? There never was a book so 
little monotonous as the Bible, so continually changing 
its key,—if so be that some, at all events, may be 
charmed by the voice of the Heavenly Charmer. The 
same Spirit, who inspired the Holy Scriptures, gave 
great diversity of gifts to the early Christian teachers. 
All were not Apostles, nor all prophets, nor all teachers, 
nor did all speak with tongues, nor all interpret. And 
now that the supernatural gifts have died out of the 
Church, the same Spirit observes the same rule of 
variety in the different mental endowments, which He 
distributes to different teachers of Divine Truth. All 
men’s writings have not the same power over all men’s 
minds. Is there not a plain testimony to this in the 
avowal which we hear so often made ; “ I know I ought 
to like such and such a book, which all the world agrees 
in praising; but I cannot do it?” What the com¬ 
plaint really means is, that the hook does not suit you, 
that the general strain of the author’s mind has not 
that harmony with the general strain of yours, which 
will give him an influence over you for good. That 
being the case, leave him alone,—without however 
doubting or denying the power which he may have 
over other minds. Even in the Holy Scriptures them- 


94 Of Devotional Beading. [part 

selves we think ourselves quite warranted in selecting 
those passages which are most suitable to the circum¬ 
stances, intelligence, and character of the reader. No 
one would think of recommending a peasant to engage 
himself much with the Book of the Revelation, or a 
child to study the eighth chapter to the Romans. 
Much more, then, may we exercise a similar discretion 
with those works, which, however pious and edifying, 
do not come to us on the authority of Inspiration. 
Choose, then, those books to which, from a cursory 
knowledge of their contents, you find yourself most 
drawn. There are several which have attained the 
rank of standard works, from their possessing ex¬ 
cellences of various kinds. Such are the Saint’s Rest, 
the Pilgrim’s Progress (which all know a little of, but 
very few have studied), the Imitation of Christ by 
Thomas a Kempis, Taylor’s Holy Living and Hying, 
Cecil’s Remains, the Thoughts of Adam, Pascal’s 
Thoughts on Religion, Bishop Hall’s Contemplations, 
Edwards on the Religious Affections, Leighton’s 
Commentary on St. Peter, the Christian Year, and 
several others which will at once suggest themselves 
to all who have a general acquaintance with our reli¬ 
gious literature. To these I may add Foster’s Lec¬ 
tures, and Archer Butler’s Sermons, both of which 
combine originality of view with piety of sentiment in 
an unusual degree, and also two works which are most 
valuable as theological compendiums, while their authors 
never lose sight of the edification of the heart, Griffith 
on the Creed, and the Bishop of Tasmania’s (Nixon’s) 
Lectures on the Catechism. There are indeed many 
devotional publications, especially some of recent date, 
which will seem more attractive than the above, and 
which will better meet the unhealthy craving for some¬ 
thing new and highly flavoured, which now is so generally 
prevalent. But spiritual nourishment resembles natural 
nourishment in this respect, that the most stimulating 
is by no means the most wholesome or the most safe. 
He who honestly reads for edification must not discard 
a book for being dry, as if he read for diversion. In 


II.] Of Devotional Heading. 95 

a certain temper of mind, the Holy Scriptures them¬ 
selves will fall upon us as insipid; it will seem to us as 
if we knew them by heart, and had nothing further to 
learn from them, as if they could neither settle con¬ 
troversy nor quicken thought. But this temper of 
mind is one in which we are incapable of edification, 
however capable we may be of amusement. In a right 
state of mind, those books will please us most which 
most resemble the Holy Scriptures,—which are most 
weighty, most sober, most simple, most savouring of a 
spiritual mind. To a pure taste the manna was a more 
attractive food than the fleshpots of Egypt. Bear this 
in mind in the choice of devotional reading. 

But suppose our book chosen, and chosen well and 
wisely. In what manner shall we read it? The 
answer to this question has implicitly been given 
already. Bead it as a devotional exercise, mixing 
Prayer, or at least devout aspirations, with the reading. 
Every thing that can be said on the subject is really 
wrapped up in this,—that the reading shall be devo¬ 
tional. Yet we will expand the thought a very little. 

Think of the author as now a member of the Church 
triumphant, one who is with Christ in Paradise, and, 
for aught you know, looking down upon your struggles 
and trials from a sphere where sin and sorrow are 
unknown. Kegard this book as a sort of letter sent 
from him to you, to encourage you on your heavenward 
pilgrimage, and to stir in you a livelier hope of the 
inheritance to which he has (by Grace) attained. By 
degrees you shall feel attracted in a strange way, 
though you have never seen him, towards his mind, as 
it is mirrored in his writings, and shall realize some¬ 
thing of the sentiments described in that beautiful 
passage of the Christian Year:— 


“ Meanwhile with every son and saint of Thine, 
Along the glorious line, 

Sitting by turns beneath Thy sacred feet, 
We’ll hold communion sweet, 


96 Of Devotional Heading. [pakt 

Know them by look and voice, and thank them all 
For helping us in thrall, 

For words of hope, and bright ensamples given. 

To show through moonless skies that there is light in 
Heaven.” 

The recollection that you read for edification, and not 
for curiosity, or to serve a controversial purpose, will 
suggest many wholesome rules. Carefully eschew all 
dissipation in the method of reading. Dissipation is 
the great snare of all study, whether secular or religious, 
in the present day. There is so much to read,—such 
profusion of matter in every department of literature, 
nay, even in the public journals,—that insensibly the 
habit is formed of skipping the dull, and sipping the 
interesting, and never honouring any book with a fair 
and thorough perusal. We must set ourselves in 
opposition to this habit, if we wish to profit by devo¬ 
tional reading. Books must be read through from end 
to end, if it were only as a corrective to that discursive 
habit of mind, which the literature of the day fosters, 
and which is so particularly inimical to devotion. 
Generally speaking, a second book of devotion should 
not be taken up, till the first is finished. If the time 
which we can spare for such reading is short, books of 
thoughts, more or less sententiously expressed (such as 
some of those I have mentioned, and to which I may 
here add “Selections from the Writings of Payson”), 
will be found very serviceable. The eye soon runs 
over a few lines, which convey a weighty sentiment; 
and, when the sentiment is caught, the mind may recur 
to it at spare moments during the rest of the day. 

We have already said that good and holy sentiments 
are the oil which feeds the lamp of Prayer. They are 
emphatically so. And this suggests an occasional use 
of good books, over and above their regular and normal 
use. There are seasons known to every devout person, 
when the vessel of the heart seems to run dry, and the 
flame of Prayer burns low in the socket. You may 
then often replenish the vessel by reading the favourite 


II.] Of Fasting. 97 

spiritual author. Pass your eye once more over that 
marked passage,—over those words which glow with 
such a fervour of devout sentiment; and the oil will 
flow again, drop by drop, into the vessel. Particularly 
may this be done with Christian poetry. Poetry is the 
voice of the affections ; and, therefore, has a peculiar 
tendency to quicken the affections. The music of 
David’s harp chased away from Saul the evil spirit of 
moody sullenness. Elisha’s minstrel, playing with his 
hand, laid such a spell upon the prophet’s mind, that 
the hand of the Lord came upon him, and he pro¬ 
phesied. And the minstrelsy of psalms and hymns, 
and spiritual songs, has often brought the Christian out 
of a state of mind, in which Prayer seemed a labour 
and a drudgery, if not an impossibility, into that calm 
and holy frame, in which he could again put forth 
spiritual energies, and has found himself able to renew 
his interrupted converse with God. Give the specific a 
trial, and you shall ere long know its virtue for your¬ 
self. 


CHAPTER VII. 

OF FASTING. 

u I keep under my body , and bring it into subjection .”— 
1 Coe. ix. 27. 

The passage which stands at the head of this Chapter 
carries our minds at once to the subject of Fasting. 
And it is a subject on which those who desire above all 
other things quiet advancement in the religious charac¬ 
ter will gladly hail counsel and direction. Fasting is a 
practice uncongenial to that form of piety which con¬ 
sists wholly in good emotions and serious impressions. 
But if any one is profoundly discontented with emotions 
and impressions which terminate on themselves, and 
leave no mark on the character; if any one seeks 

it 



98 Of Fasting., [part 

growth in grace and knowledge as the only satisfactory 
criterion of Spiritual Life, the subject of Fasting will 
seem to that person worthy at least of serious considera¬ 
tion, as a practice which, if discreetly and devoutly used, 
might at all events conduce to his advancement. By 
many of my readers Fasting is probably looked at so 
much as an obsolete exercise, and the revival of it would 
be regarded as so irksome, that it is necessary, in ap¬ 
proaching the subject, to pray for an ingenuous and 
open mind, ready to welcome any conclusions to which 
God’s Word may seem to lead us. 

To the question whether Fasting is prescribed in 
Holy Scripture, it must be answered that in its literal 
form it is nowhere prescribed, but that its spirit and 
principle is strongly insisted upon. Also it may be 
said, that, though not commanded, it is strongly 
commended, both by Our Lord’s assumption in the 
Sermon on the Mount that His followers will practise 
it, and by the example not only of Scriptural saints, 
but of holy men in modern times, to whatever Theo¬ 
logical School they may have belonged. In both these 
respects it bears some resemblance to the practice of 
keeping Sunday, which I shall have occasion presently 
to draw into a further comparison with it. Keeping 
Sunday is nowhere literally prescribed in Holy Scrip¬ 
ture. The Fourth Commandment, understood in the 
letter, prescribes the keeping holy the seventh day , 
which none but the Jews ever do keep. But the 
principle of setting apart a, portion of our time to God, 
both weekly and daily, and the principle of assembling 
ourselves together for Public Worship, which cannot 
be done by the whole community unless occupations 
cease on a given day, is clearly recognized in several 
passages. And, as in the matter of the weekly rest, the 
Church, or Christian Society, has stepped in from the 
very earliest time, and prescribed that the day of Christ’s 
Resurrection (or first day) is to be observed instead of 
the seventh, so somewhat analogously the Church has 
given a definite shape to the Scriptural principle of self- 
denial; and appointed certain days in her Calendar as 


nee 


i H *' l t 

IT *J Of Fasting. 

days of Fasting and Abstinence 
as no religious person has ever sligl? 
of the Lord’s Lay, or lived in habitual d^regarcTof it, so 
I believe that no man eminent for piety (and here the 
appeal must be made to Beligious Biography) has ever 
failed to exemplify in some measure the practice of 
Fasting, though doubtless the modes in which the 
principle has been exemplified have been very various. 

In pursuance of the thoughts with which I have 
opened the subject, I will speak first of the principle 
of Fasting, as universally binding upon Christians ; and, 
secondly, of Fasting as an observance for which special 
days have been set apart. 

I. What is the principle of Fasting? Let us 
gather it from the words of St. Paul; “ I keep under 
my body, and bring it into subjection.” It should be 
remarked at the outset, that both the verbs by which 
the Apostle here denotes the discipline of the body are 
strong and peculiar. The first occurs only once again 
in the New Testament, and the second never again. 
The first carries on a metaphor, which the Apostle 
has already employed in the previous verse: “ So fight 
I, not as one that beateth the air.” The fighting 
here alluded to is not fighting with swords, but that 
pugilistic encounter with the cestus, or boxing glove, 
which formed one of the Greek games held in honour 
of the god Neptune at the Isthmus of Corinth, and 
which therefore the Apostle’s Corinthian converts had 
frequently witnessed. In what follows he pursues the 
same image. His body he regards as his antagonist 
in a pugilistic encounter; and accordingly employs a 
peculiar word, which, literally translated, signifies, “ But 
I cover my body with bruises.” [It should perhaps be 
observed by the way, that the Apostle’s Corinthian 
readers would by no means attach to the allusion those 
ideas of a coarse and brutalizing sport which we can 
hardly help connecting with it. All the games held at 
the Isthmus would be regarded by them not only as 
exercises of chivalrous gallantry, like the tournaments of 
the Middle Ages, but as solemn religious festivals, held 
e2 



100 Of Fasting. [paet 

in honour of the god Poseidon.] The next word, by 
which he denotes the discipline inflicted by him on his 
body, would be more exactly rendered, “ I reduce it to a 
condition of slavery ”—a stronger expression this than 
merely, “ I bring it into subjection.” The children are 
in subjection to the father, the wife to the husband; 
but this is a comparatively mild rule, which not only 
consults the interests of the governed, but appeals to 
their reason and conscience. A slave, however, accord¬ 
ing to the views of slavery current when the Apostle 
wrote, was simply a living piece of property, who had no 
rights and no claims, and who, if he were rebellious or 
insolent, must be chastised by blows, and coerced by 
being made to grind in the prison-house. 

So much for the words which are now more imme¬ 
diately under review. But from the Apostle’s style of 
writing, which is a style of copious digression, very few 
of his weighty words can be appreciated, unless we 
trace them back to their connexion with the general 
argument. They all have their roots grappled deep into 
that argument; and, accordingly, to isolate them and con¬ 
sider them apart from the context, is like rudely tearing 
up a flower, instead of looking at it while it waves its 
fair tresses upon the flower-bed ;—even while we gaze, 
it loses its grace and freshness, and withers in our 
hand. What then led St. Paul to speak of this severe 
discipline which he inflicted upon his body ? In the 
foregoing chapter he had been advocating certain 
restrictions (in reference to meats offered to idols) 
which the Corinthians were to observe, not at all out of 
conscience, but out of consideration for the prejudices 
of others. In the chapter before us, he thus pursues 
the train of ideas which had been started by that topic; 
“ Do not murmur because a restriction is thus laid upon 
you in things which ye might innocently enjoy; for do 
not I myself lay many such restrictions upon myself ? 
In one point especially I do so. I might—not inno¬ 
cently alone, but most lawfully—claim support from you 
to whom I preach. The Lord hath ordained that they 
which preach the Gospel should live of the Gospel; and 


IT.] Of Fasting . 101 

I have as good a right to stand upon this ordinance 
as other Apostles. If I threw myself upon you for 
maintenance, it would only be asserting what is my 
Divine prerogative, and claiming from you not a gra¬ 
tuity but the fulfilment of a solemn duty. But all of 
you know that I have never stood upon my right, nor 
accepted a single denarius from any of you. Why not ? 
Partly, because I feel that this manifest disinterested¬ 
ness will conduce to the great cause which I advocate, 
and give me influence and weight in certain quarters 
where I desire an influence. But I have another 
reason. I know that it is a hard thing to be saved. I 
know that my dear Master said that strait was the gate 
and narrow was the way that leadeth unto life, and 
that few there be that find it. I know that I am a 
highly-privileged man; but that does not make me a 
safe man. Rather I know that eminent privileges 
involve eminent dangers, even as the being placed on a 
lofty pinnacle creates dizziness and imperils life. In 
short, I know that I am unsafe if I use my Christian 
liberty to the full extent. I know that I cannot 
insist upon every thing which I might lawfully enjoy, 
and at the same time be secure. So I do not stand 
upon my right in this particular. I earn my own 
bread by the sweat of my brow. When I have com¬ 
forted and edified my flock in the district where I 
happen to be, and chosen pastors for them, and laid 
hands upon those pastors, and dictated my Epistles to 
those distant Churches, with which I am present in 
spirit, though absent from them in body—then I grasp 
the hammer, the saw, and the needle, and set to work 
upon my tent-poles, and upon the shaggy goat’s hair 
which Yorms the covering of my tents. True; it is severe 
labour—cruelly severe—lasting sometimes long into 
the night, when the day has been one of cares, and 
prayers, and earnest expostulations with tears. I know 
that the body is wearing out, and the outward man 
perishing beneath the stress of such labours. Well; but 
I feel it to be essential. It is not by exertion simply, but 
by straining every nerve and sinew, that your runners in 


102 Of Fasting, [part 

the Isthmian foot-race gain the pine-garland, which is 
the victor’s meed. It is not by empty and pretentious 
flourishes of their hands in the air, but by well-aimed 
and well-planted blows that your Isthmian pugilists 
overwhelm their antagonists. And so, being resolved 
to gain the mastery over my fleshly and animal nature, 
I deny it much of the rest and many of the indul¬ 
gences which it might lawfully enjoy. I batter it 
with toils and labours, I coerce it firmly, and chastise 
it as being my slave. “ I keep under my body, and 
bring it into subjection: lest that by any means, when 
I have preached to others, I myself should be a 
castaway.” 

Now what is the principle of Christian discipline 
which the Apostle is here laying down? Let me 
exhibit it to you in a figure,—a figure which, if not 
itself found in Holy Scripture, is yet only an expansion 
and development of one which is frequently found 
there. We are called, nay we are in virtue of our 
Baptism, children of God. It is upon this relationship, 
and the sentiments and duties flowing from it, that 
the Apostle builds his exhortation when he says, “Be 
ye therefore followers ” (the literal translation is “ imi¬ 
tators,”—the allusion being to the trick of imitating 
the parent which the child readily acquires) “ of God, 
as dear children.” The phrase “ walking with God ” 
may be drawn into the circle of the same imagery. The 
child walks by the father’s side over the breezy down, 
holding his hand, and looking up into his face ever and 
anon to ask questions and obtain an explanation of 
difficulties. The Christian in like manner walks in 
affiance and trust along the thorny paths of life, guided 
by the Word and Providence of his Heavenly Father, 
and leaning on His wisdom and His grace. Now 
extend this imagery a little. Imagine the child leaving 
the father’s hand for a moment, and sporting about 
under his eye. Partly from curiosity, and partly from 
that spirit of frolic which is attracted by danger and 
the prospect of an enterprise, the child nears a steep 
cliff. What does the father do ? He cries, “ Como 


ii.] Of Fasting. 103 

away immediately.” The spot where the child is may 
be perfectly safe, so long as he continues there; the 
child’s weight may be so light that there could be no 
danger of a projecting boulder toppling over with him; 
the sea-breeze at the verge of the precipice may be 
delicious and bracing, and the turf may be enamelled 
with daisies and buttercups ; but the stern command is 
repeated in a voice which the child knows he must not 
disobey ; “ Come away instantly, without a moment’s 
delay.” And reasonably so. It is not reason to ven¬ 
ture too near danger, or to continue in its neighbour¬ 
hood. Dizziness may seize the child, or he may be 
tempted onwards to an insecure spot. A moth, which 
flies so near the bright flame as just to preserve its 
wings from being singed, is a foolish moth and certain 
to come to mischief.—Now apply all this to our spiri¬ 
tual walk along the perilous and slippery, though 
sometimes flowery, path of life. “All things are 
lawful unto me, but all things are not expedient: all 
things are lawful for me, but I will not be brought 
under the power of any.” Take the various forms of 
worldly amusement. So far as they are really amuse¬ 
ments and not labour and sorrow (which in fact many 
of them are, dreadfully jading the body and mind, and 
exhausting the energies), and so far as no breach of God’s 
moral law is involved in them, they are innocent and 
lawful. Nay, we go further. Amusements of an intel¬ 
ligent and rational character are a positive benefit; for 
the mind, wherewith alone we can serve God acceptably, 
needs relaxation as urgently as the body needs sleep. 
But it is one thing to say of amusements that in them¬ 
selves they are innocent and lawful; quite another thing 
to say that Christians must lay no restrictions upon 
themselves as regards amusement. St. Paul, when he 
became an Apostle, might have lawfully parted with his 
whole stock in trade as a tentmaker, and might have 
held himself exempt from other cares and labours, save 
those of the Sacred Ministry. Did I say lawfully P 
Nay, we may go further. There was an order of the 
Lord for his doing so, if he pleased. But St. Paul 


104 Of Fasting. [part 

knew that he must not use his Christian liberty to the 
full extent, if he would be safe. And we surely, who 
are not burning, shining lights like that extraordinary 
man, but very humble and commonplace Christians, 
living in the low range of commonplace trials and in¬ 
firmities, and altogether unworthy to stoop down and 
unloose the shoe-latchet of the humblest saint of Jesus, 
can hardly dispense with a discipline which St. Paul 
considered to be essential for himself. Does any one 
find by experience that some worldly amusement, though 
innocent in itself, and very possibly innocent for others 
(let us remember in judging others on these points, 
that “to the pure all things are pure”), yet has a 
tendency to inflame his passions, to set up his vanity, 
and to brush rudely from his mind the thought of 
God’s Presence? Then let there be no compromise. 
Let him listen to the Voice of the Everlasting Father 
calling him out of harm’s way ; “ My child, come away 
instantly.” But supposing he experiences no evil 
spiritual effect from the indulgence, or at least none of 
which he is conscious, may he abandon himself without 
restriction to the amusement in question, live in it, 
sacrifice a considerable amount of money, leisure, time 
to it ? Surely not. To live in any amusement is to 
be the slave of it. And the Christian should spurn 
any such dependence. The tone which he takes up 
towards all innocent enjoyments and recreations should 
be just that of the Apostle, “ All things are lawful for 
me; but I will not be brought under the power of any.” 
Besides, the Christian dares not give himself full lati¬ 
tude in this respect. With an insidious heart, with 
crafty spiritual foes watching for his halting, with that 
awful warning respecting the straitness of the gate 
and the narrowness of the way ringing in his ear, it 
would not be safe to do so. He sports not within a 
veiy wide margin of the precipice’s edge. 

Now it is quite clear that the principle which we 
have laid down admits of an application to food, as well 
as to all other less essential recreations. And it is 
equally clear that in respect of food, as well as other 


IT *] Of Fasting. 105 

recreations, the Christian must be under the guidance 
and government of this principle. By the bounty of 
Our Heavenly Father, too little thought of, because it 
reaches us through a train of secondary causes (such as 
good harvests, prosperity in the country, our own 
ability to buy, our own ability to get), our board is 
daily spread not with necessaries only, but with luxuries. 
We may innocently enjoy these things, if we partake 
of them with thanksgiving. “ Every creature of God 
is good, and nothing to be refused, if it be received 
with thanksgiving: for it is sanctified by the word of 
God and prayer.” Meats are in themselves a matter of 
indifference; and the Christian has nothing in common 
with the ascetic, who imagines that in the mere act of 
abstinence there is a purity and a virtue. But it is quite 
another thing to say that we may with safety indulge in 
food to satiety, and lay no restraint upon our appetite 
for choice viands and delicate fare. In the first place, 
there are, as every one knows, certain classes of sins, 
to which any thing approaching to soft and luxurious 
living would act as a direct incentive and stimulant. 
Fasting combined with earnest prayer must be in 
reason the meet corrective for such sins. But it is so in 
Scripture, as well as in reason. Commenting upon His 
disciples’ inability to cast out the foul spirit from the 
lunatic child, Our Lord implied that their failure was 
due to their not having used the means' always found 
necessary under those circumstances; “ This kind can 
come forth by nothing but by prayer and fasting .” 

But suppose other cases, in which the spiritual con¬ 
sequences of unbridled indulgence are not, as far as we 
can perceive, mischievous. Even then we say, “ You 
cannot possibly be safe in using your Christian liberty 
to its utmost extent. Safety without self-denial is the 
safety of the child gambolling on the edge of the preci¬ 
pice, and of the moth fluttering in the ray of the 
candle. Some men—many more than suspect them¬ 
selves to be so—are slaves of food,—peevish and fretful, 
if the natural craving for it be in the least stinted or 
thwarted. Is their Christianity cast in the mould of 


106 Of Fasting. [part 

St. Paul’s? We doubt not that they relish his views 
of Christian liberty; but do they equally relish his 
views of Christian restriction ? And yet it is in the 
restriction that the highest freedom of the Gospel 
lies. If, as regards any one innocent enjoyment, a 
man has not moral courage enough, or force of cha¬ 
racter enough, to abstain from it occasionally, to that 
enjoyment the man is a slave. And the only true 
freedom lies in his obtaining by Grace such force of 
character g,s to be lord paramount over the enjoyment, 
and to be able to say, “ I could easily dispense with 
this or that comfort, if there were any good object for 
resigning it.” But then this power of easily dispensing 
with comforts is not to be gained except by actual 
practice and experiment. To all the numerous bless¬ 
ings of daily life, wherewith a bountiful God crowns 
our cup, we have no idea, we can have no idea, how 
much we are wedded, until we are deprived of them. 
While in the enjoyment of them, we readily fancy that, 
at a moment’s notice, if need arose, we could dispense 
with these tribes, and scarcely feel their loss ; but this 
fancy argues very little acquaintance with the human 
heart. That heart, wherever it plants itself in life, 
throws out suckers of dependence all around it. No 
soil is so muddy, no root is so dry and rotten, that the 
heart will not grapple a sucker into it, will not twine a 
sucker round it; so that when torn away from the 
muddy soil, and the rotten root, the heart bleeds. 
What Religion says is, “ Learn gradually, not to purify 
yourself by pain (that is the dream of the ascetic), not 
to expiate your sin by self-inflicted torture (that is 
abhorrent to the Christian mind, as infringing on the 
only meritorious Atonement of the Saviour), but to 
detach your affections from all things earthly and 
sensual, and aim at a despotic control over every appe¬ 
tite.” That is the fundamental principle of Pasting; 
and it is a principle which every man must carry out 
in his daily life, one after this manner and another 
after that, if he desires to be a good soldier of Jesus 
Christ. No good soldier ever refused to endure hard- 


107 


II.] Of Fasting. 

ships. What would the general say, if the soldier 
averred a distaste for the hard fare, the broken slum¬ 
bers, and the scanty accommodation incidental to camp 
life? 

II. But it may be said that the self-control (or in 
other words the temperance) which I am advocating, 
should run parallel with our daily life, and not be con¬ 
fined to stated seasons. 

Most true, as far as the bare statement goes; but 
most false, if what is intended or implied by the state¬ 
ment be that stated seasons of Fasting, such as our 
Church appoints, are useless formalities, which had 
better be expunged (as they have already expunged the 
State Services) from the Liturgy. The “ Table of the 
Vigils, Fasts, and Days of Abstinence, to be observed in 
the Year,” standing (as it does) in the forefront of the 
Book of Common Prayer, is a solemn and valuable 
reminder to us that habits of self-control form an essen¬ 
tial part of the Christian character,—a solemn, and 
now greatly needed protest from the book, which, next 
to the Holy Scriptures, we are most bound to venerate, 
against the luxury and softness of a degenerate age and 
an overwrought civilization. But more than this,—much 
more. It is, indeed, most true that self-control is to 
be the discipline of a life, not the fitfully-adopted prac¬ 
tice of the Eve before a Saint’s Day, or of an Ember 
week, or of a Friday, or of Lent. But those know 
little indeed of the human heart who do not know that 
a duty for which no stated seasons are set apart, more 
especially if it be an unpalatable duty, is apt to be 
altogether evaded by the conscience. That which has 
no time of its own, but simply may be done, and ought 
to be done at every time, is sure to be done never. 
The God who made the human heart, must know 
the human heart. And because He saw and knew its 
tendency to find loopholes of escape from observances, 
which have no definite season, He instituted the Sab¬ 
bath in the law of the Fourth Commandment, between 
which and the Ecclesiastical Institution of Fasting 
Days there is much which is very analogous. Un- 


108 Of Fasting. [part 

doubtedly men should “pray without ceasing,” and 
not on the Sunday only. Undoubtedly, men should 
surrender some portion of their daily, and not only of 
their weekly leisure, to prayer (private and domestic), 
and to the study of God’s Word. Undoubtedly, 
men should every day withdraw into the screened 
sanctuary of their own hearts, and resting awhile 
from worldly cares, give their minds to heavenly Con¬ 
templation. But undoubtedly, also, the restrictions 
of the Sabbath-law are wise and useful restrictions. 
Judge in yourselves whether they be not so indeed. 
Suppose that a day of religious rest were prescribed by 
no authority. Suppose that, worship and meditation 
being pressed upon us as urgently as they are at present, 
the time of fulfilling these duties had been left to our own 
option, and that the seventh day were undistinguished 
by any special consecration of it. Can you suppose 
that, under these circumstances, there would have been 
one tithe of the devotion in Christendom which there 
is at present? Would not the result infallibly be that 
the Lord’s tax upon our time would be altogether dis¬ 
regarded,—that our odious cupidity would overleap 
every barrier of reason and conscience,—that there 
would be no pause to the toils of the artisans in our 
factories,—no cessation in the jingle of commerce 
among our crowded thoroughfares,—and that, if any 
one were inclined for a pause or a break, or felt his 
heart yearn a little for the tinkling of Church bells, 
and the beautiful sight of Christ’s flock coming to 
worship Him in His House of Prayer, his neighbours 
would say to that relenting man, “ Come, and let us 
make a little more money to-day; and, as for God, we 
can think of Him at any time ?” Is it not clear that, 
as human nature goes, the ordinance of the Fourth 
Commandment is a real security for a certain amount 
of devotion? And, although we freely admit that 
Fasting Days are not of Divine, but only of Ecclesi¬ 
astical, appointment, yet is not the same reasoning 
applicable to them ? In the ordinary course of things, 
are men likely to exercise self-control more or less, if 


II.] Of Fasting. 109 

certain days are specially set apart for the exercise? 
Anyhow, they are certain to exercise it little enough; but 
we are sure that if the ordinance of the Fasting Days 
were expunged from the Calendar, they would exercise 
it still less. Therefore it is that we bless God that we 
have as yet at all events retained these days; that we 
have not as yet surrendered them up to that spirit 
of license and dislike of religious restraints, which 
clamours in the nation at large, and finds a voice even 
in the Legislature ; and therefore it is that we recom¬ 
mend Christians, not in a spirit of sour asceticism, but in 
the exercise of a sound and wise Christian discretion, 
to observe these days by some restrictions upon their 
liberty as to innocent comforts, enjoyments, and recre¬ 
ations,—the restrictions being always limited by regard 
to health (any interference with which would be not 
only sinful in itself, but a positive contradiction of the 
end of Fasting, which is to clear, and not to cloud the 
mind) and being always guarded as far as possible from 
the notice of others. 

I cannot conclude without pointing out, that the 
analogy which I have suggested between the Divine 
Institution of the Sabbath and the Ecclesiastical Insti¬ 
tution of Fasting Days, is one which, if carried out, 
would effectually rectify the abuses to which Fasting 
is exposed. Observe that, if any good result is to be 
looked for from it, the Fast Day (like the Sabbath 
Ordinance) must be ’spiritualized and Christianized,—- 
redeemed from Judaism and the bondage of the letter, 
and kept in the freedom of the Spirit. The Sabbath- 
law, as it stands in the Ten Commandments, merely 
prescribes rest on the seventh day. But no Christian 
imagines that mere literal rest is, of itself and by itself, 
a sufficient fulfilment of the precept. No Christian 
imagines that a man who should sleep all Sunday, or 
loiter about in indolence all Sunday, would be observing 
the Sabbath-law, or indeed doing any thing but con¬ 
travening it. Such an obedience would be in the 
letter and not in the spirit. The spirit of the precept 
enjoins public worship, holy thought and reading, 


110 Of Fasting. [paet 

deeds of love, and cheerful Christian intercourse. 
Apply the same observation to the Fasting Day. The 
mere omission or retrenchment of a meal is by itself 
nothing. It will be worse than nothing,—it will con¬ 
travene the spirit of the Ordinance,—if it make us 
morose instead of cheerful, or disqualify us for the 
exercise of the mind in Prayer, Self-examination, and 
the study of the Scriptures. Fasting is designed as 
a help to Prayer ; and the moment it becomes an hin¬ 
drance, that moment it defeats its own end. It is 
designed also as a help to Almsgiving,—a retrench¬ 
ment of our own superfluities to supply the needs of 
the poor. Now Almsgiving can only be acceptably 
practised in a spirit of love; and therefore to allow 
Fasting to interfere with those little duties of love, 
kindness, and consideration, which we owe to those 
around us, is again a counteraction of its end. For 
some constitutions, doubtless, the self-control required 
of them lies in other departments rather than in that 
of food. Surely there are subjects enough in which 
we may lay a restriction upon ourselves, comforts 
enough which we may spare for the good of others, 
superfluities enough which we may retrench. We 
cannot be at any real loss for a quarter in which to 
exercise self-denial; and so long as it is wisely and 
lovingly exercised, the quarter is a matter of quite 
secondary importance. Whatever be the form which 
we adopt of keeping under our body and bringing it 
into subjection, let us at all events take care to spi¬ 
ritualize it by a larger amount of Prayer and devotional 
retirement, by meditation upon our sins, by acts of 
kindness, by deeds of love. 

As regarding the observance of Lent generally, so 
regarding the specific observance of Fast Days, we feel 
that it is specially demanded by the times on which we 
are fallen. Here again we believe, that in a faithful 
adherence to the system of our Church is to be found 
a remedy for the tremendous social evils which ever 
attend the progress of Civilization, when that progress 
becomes unhealthily rapid. The iniquity of Sodom is 


n.] Of Fasting. Ill 

said to have consisted in “ pride, fulness of bread, 
abundance of idleness,” and neglect of “ strengthen- 
ing the bands of the poor and needy.” If with 
“ abundance of idleness ” our times and country cannot 
be justly taxed, the other traits—haughtiness, luxury, 
and hard-hearted inconsiderateness — are frightfully 
exemplified in our rich and prosperous community. 
“ Fulness of bread” especially. The luxuries and over¬ 
refinements of the age—all the manifold softnesses 
whereby art contrives to make life easy, and to soothe 
the little wearinesses, and minister to the little whims 
of the opulent,—remind the student of profane history 
of the degenerate effeminacy of manners under the 
earlier Homan Emperors,—those monsters of cruelty 
and of lust. While in the mind of the student of 
Scripture, these luxuries call up sterner and more awful 
associations, as he remembers what was the end of the 
certain rich man, at whose gate was laid Lazarus full 
of sores, while he himself “ was clothed in purple and 
fine linen, and fared sumptuously every day.” The 
flesh grows wanton and insolent; the spirit, just kept 
alive in the nation by the august presence of the 
Gospel, and by the ministrations of a Church, whose 
labours are totally incommensurate to the extent of 
her harvest-field, pines and languishes, and is ready to 
die. Now the remedy for this state of things is the 
revival of the Fast-Day,—not in the narrowness of a 
mere literal observance, but in that spirit of humiliation 
and love and self-restraint, to which alone God has 
respect. It was one of Our dear Lord’s last warnings 
to His followers : “ Take heed to yourselves, lest at any 
time your hearts be overcharged with surfeiting, and 
drunkenness, and cares of this life, and so that day 
come upon you unawares.” May this warning ring 
like an alarum in the ears of this soft and luxurious 
generation! And that it may do so, let us fall at the 
knees of Him who gave it, with that Prayer of our 
Church, which in a few short lines expresses the whole 
use and force and significance of Fasting :— 

“ O Lord, who for our sake didst fast forty days and 


112 On Almsgiving. [pakt 

forty nights; Give us grace to use such abstinence, 
that, our flesh being subdued to the Spirit, we may 
ever obey Thy godly motions in righteousness and true 
holiness, to Thy honour and glory, who livest and 
reignest with the Father and the Holy Ghost, one 
God, world without end.” 


CHAPTER VIII. 

ON ALMSGIVING. 

“ Thy prayers and thine alms are come up for a memo - 
rial before God .”— Acts x. 4. 

These are the words, in which an angel assures 
Cornelius that his way of life has met with God’s 
approval. “ His prayers and his alms had come up 
for a memorial before God.” His own account of 
what the angel said to him notices the same two 
points, with a very trifling verbal discrepancy:—“ A 
man stood before me in bright clothing, and said, 
Cornelius, thy prayer is heard, and thine alms are had 
in remembrance in the sight of God.” And the sketch 
of the life of Cornelius, drawn by the Evangelist, has 
the same features. He is described as “ a devout man, 
and one that feared God with all his house”—(so much 
for his general character; now for the particular exer¬ 
cises by which the character expressed itself)—“ ivho 
gave much alms to the people , and prayed to God 
alivay.” 

This Chapter shall be devoted to the subject of 
Almsgiving; and we open it by observing the position 
which Almsgiving holds in the scheme of Christian 
duty. “ Thy prayers and thine alms.” There is a 
deeper meaning in the circumstance of Prayers and 
Alms being noticed side by side than might at first 
sight appear. Alms are the correlative of prayers. 
The two exercises are, if I may so say, branches from 



113 


II.] On Almsgiving. 

a common stem, which binds them together. And 
what is that common stem ? It is the moral Law of 
God ; that Law to which, though it he not the Cove¬ 
nant under which (as Christian men) we live, we must 
yet be conformed as a rule of life. The Law branches 
out, as we know, into two great precepts,—supreme 
and unbounded Love to God, and Love to our neigli- 
.bouras to ourselves. Now the man who really and 
habitually prays, the man who lives in the spirit of 
prayer, fulfils the first great branch of duty. True 
spiritual prayer,—“the effectual, fervent prayer of a 
righteous man,” such as was Cornelius, is the outcome 
and expression of a man’s duty to God. Such prayer 
is called in Scripture “incense;” partly from its 
reaching the Throne of Grace, even as incense, when 
kindled, soars up to the sky; partly from its spiritual 
fragrance and acceptability. “ Let my prayer be set 
forth in Thy sight as the incense .” And the man who 
gives alms, in the true spirit of almsgiving, is equally 
fulfilling the second great branch of duty. Devout 
almsgiving—such as was that of Cornelius, who “ gave 
much alms to the people,” and that of the centurion 
in the Gospel, who loved the Jewish nation, and 
built for them a synagogue—is the outcome and ex¬ 
pression of a man’s duty to his neighbour. Yet think 
not that the act passes no further than to our neigh¬ 
bour. It too, no less than prayer, comes up before 
God as a memorial. It too, no less than prayer, finds 
in the fragrant, soaring incense its Scriptural emblem 
and type. “ I have all, and abound ” (says the grateful 
Apostle, whose need had been supplied by his Phi¬ 
lippian converts) ; “ I am full, having received of 
Epaphroditus the things which were sent from you; 
an odour of a sweet smell , a sacrifice acceptable , well¬ 
pleasing to God” 

Thus, then, Prayer and Almsgiving are seen to be 
co-ordinate. This circumstance alone lends a value to 
Almsgiving, which perhaps we have not been apt to 
attach to it. Viewed side by side with Prayer, as the 
expression of love to our fellow-men, it assumes a 

T 


114 On Almsgiving. [part 

position and a significance which we never hitherto 
gave it credit for. Nay, if truth must he said, we have 
been occasionally somewhat suspicious of Almsgiving. 
In the term itself we have fancied we heard a legal 
ring, as if it were not genuine Gospel coin; and some 
of us, it may be, have secretly regarded those happy 
characters, who are profuse and munificent in relieving 
the distress of others, as seeking to be justified by the 
works of the Law and not by the faith of Christ. 
But this correlation between Prayer and Alms puts 
the subject in a new light. Almsgiving need be no 
more a work of human merit than Prayer is. Nei¬ 
ther Almsgiving nor Prayer can justify the sinner. 
No almsgiving, however profuse, and no prayer, how¬ 
ever fervent, can wipe away a single stain of guilt 
from the soul. That is the special and exclusive pre¬ 
rogative of the Blood of Christ’s Atonement. But 
both Prayer and Almsgiving—the one as well as the 
other—“ come up for a memorial for God,” when 
offered to Him in faith, even in such imperfect and 
inchoate faith as that of Cornelius must have been, 
before he heard the preaching of the Gospel from the 
Apostle Peter. 

It must however be obvious that, as it is not every 
so-called Prayer, so it is not every so-called Ahns, of 
which the great things that have been said above can 
with truth be predicated. We have been speaking of 
Prayer in its broadest sense, as embracing every form 
of communion with God; and of Alms also we have 
been speaking in the broadest sense which the term 
will bear; not merely as an occasional dole to the poor, 
but as the relief of human distress from a deep living 
sympathy with man’s sufferings and sorrows. I have 
looked at Almsgiving for the moment as the genuine 
expression of Christian Charity, just as I have looked 
at Prayer for the moment as the genuine expression of 
Christian Piety. But this, we know, is by no means 
the case with every Alms and every Prayer. Both in 
the case of Prayers and of Alms the act has, in the 
sadly degenerate practice of Christians, become de- 


115 


II.] On Almsgiving. 

tached from the spirit which should animate it, and 
which alone can render it acceptable. Prayer is per¬ 
formed by multitudes (performance, alas! is the cor¬ 
rect word) without the smallest sense of its being a 
privilege or a refreshment, merely because conscience 
or the usages of society exact a certain measure of it. 
And Alms, similarly, are extorted reluctantly from the 
majority of those who give them, with a feeling that 
any petition for them, whether coming from the per¬ 
sons in need, or from the minister of God acting in 
their behalf, is an importunity of which we would 
willingly be rid. It cannot be imagined that such 
Prayers or such Alms have any acceptability on 
high. 

Let us inquire then in what spirit Alms may be so 
given as to come up for a memorial before God. And 
may God bless our reflections on this subject, not only 
to the enlightenment of the understanding, but to the 
stimulating and strengthening of our wills! 

Pursuing then still the parallel between Prayers and 
Alms, which has been already drawn out, we remark 
that both these offerings to God must be made, not on 
casual impulse, not as the mere inspiration of a happy 
moment, but on principle. As regards Prayer-, this is 
generally acknowledged, and need scarcely be pressed. 
No one, it may be presumed, thinks that he has ac¬ 
quitted himself of his duty as a Christian, unless he 
has offered Prayer systematically and periodically. No 
one probably could satisfy his conscience by lifting up 
his heart to God only when he found himself in a 
happy frame for doing so. Acceptable as such a plan 
might be to our natural indolence, it would scarcely 
approve itself to our minds as right, if we should say, 
“ I shall abandon stated Prayer altogether; I shall 
leave Prayer for those happy moments, few and far 
between, like angels’ visits, when the mind is released 
from care, made complacent by good health, good 
spirits, and good fortune; or when it is inclined to 
serious thought by a good Sermon or by a visitation of 
Providence.” However such a plan might defend 
i 2 


116 On Almsgiving. [pabt 

itself argumentatively as a method of avoiding formalism 
and unreality in Prayer, the instinct of the Christian 
mind would at once repudiate it as wrong. In the 
first place, the duty which is left for performance at a 
convenient season is too sure, according to the ordi¬ 
nary laws of human experience, to find no season which 
is convenient; and he who defers sailing till he has 
wind, weather, and tide all in his favour, is apt to end 
by never setting sail at all. In the second place, 
Prayer is not simply (or chiefly) for the edification of 
the individual soul (in which case there might, per¬ 
haps, he some reason in deferring it till we could 
perform it with sensible profit and complacency) ; it is 
also an act of homage to Almighty God, a recognition 
of His claim upon our time, our thoughts, and the best 
energies of our minds. If our Prayers are to have 
any significance in this latter view of them, if they are 
not merely to please ourselves by the indulgence of 
pious sentiments, but to honour God, they must be 
offered systematically and methodically. We must 
pray when we rise up; we must pray when we lie 
down ; we must join in the prayers of the congregation 
on Sundays and Holy Hays. All this is conceded as 
regards Prayer; but, as regards Almsgiving, how dif¬ 
ferent is the view generally taken of the subject, and 
how miserably uncertain and precarious the practice 
which prevails! Instead of recognizing a certain por¬ 
tion of their earnings or income as being due to 
Almighty God, and as being a sacred fund, which 
must be spent in the course of the year on works of 
Piety and Charity, the modern Christian abandons 
himself, for the most part, to the appeals which are 
made to him on behalf of Philanthropic objects, and 
helps those objects only where his sensibilities are 
stirred in their favour. His beneficence is not an 
organized work at all; it is an occasional and irregular 
impulse. A Charity Sermon, which he happens to 
hear, awakens in him a kindly interest in the insti¬ 
tution advocated ; and he gives, if he has the money 
with him; if not, he determines to give; hut often, in 


ii.] On Almsgiving. 117 

the pressure and hurry of the week’s work, his ardour 
cools, and his resolution is forgotten. Then there are 
cases of distress personally known to him, which he 
relieves with more or less generosity according to the 
liveliness of the interest which he feels in them. But 
he has no idea, because he has never been at the pains 
to make the reckoning, what proportion his alms bear 
to his resources ; he has never asked himself the ques¬ 
tion, or at least has never seriously prosecuted it to an 
answer; “ Do they bear a fair proportion ; a proportion 
which satisfies my own convictions of what is right; 
because, if they do not, I am quite determined they 
shall?” 

Modern Almsgiving being, thus for the most part, 
the result of good impulse, rather than of principle, the 
system of things has adjusted itself to the sentiments 
of the majority. Money must be had for the various 
objects of benevolence ; and, as it is not to be had upon 
principle, it must be had by an appeal to our sensi¬ 
bilities, or even by more questionable methods. In¬ 
ducements to give are held out by the showy and 
exaggerated oratory of the public meeting, by the 
gaiety and little dissipation of the bazaar, or the luxury 
and social intercourse of the public dinner; these being 
the baits by which money may be caught even from 
those who never part with it from higher motives. 
The least objectionable form in which these appeals are 
made is that of the Charity Sermon. A Charity Ser¬ 
mon, according to the accepted definition of it, means 
the pathetic exposition by a preacher of some object of 
benevolence, designed to work upon the sensibilities of 
the hearers, and to draw from them assistance in the 
way of money. If this is done with simplicity, and 
without aiming at rhetorical effect, and if the special 
object is always subordinated to the great end of 
instruction in Divine Truth (the sacred province of the 
Christian pulpit), the proceeding is quite unobjection¬ 
able, and may be productive of good. Nor probably, 
in the present state of Christian sentiment, could any 
better method of raising funds for a good object be 


118 On Almsgiving. [part 

devised. But even the Charity Sermon is not the 
theoretically high and true way of obtaining supplies 
for a desirable object. If the standard of Christian 
sentiment and practice were higher, if it at all resembled 
what it was in early days, before Christian zeal and love 
cooled down, Charity Sermons would be unnecessary. 
The Apostolic advice on the subject of Alms runs thus 
(and if every Christian would act on the principle of 
this advice, all occasional appeals on behalf of good 
objects would be superseded and extinguished) : “ Now 
concerning the collection for the saints, as I have 
given order to the churches of Galatia, even so do ye. 
Upon the first day of the week let every one of you lay 
by him in store, as God hath prospered him, that there 
be no gatherings when I come,” that is to say (ex¬ 
tracting the spirit of the precept from its letter), 
“ Periodically examine your earnings, and set apart a 
due and fair proportion of them for works of Piety and 
Charity. Let that proportion constitute a separate 
fund, and when objects of benevolence are brought 
before you, assist them out of that fund.” The Pri¬ 
mitive Church acted on the letter of this Apostolical 
precept; and a trace of their practice is still to be 
found in that part of the Office of the Holy Communion, 
which is called the Offertory. In the course of the 
Liturgy (or Service of the Communion) offerings either 
of money, or of food and clothing, were made by all 
members of the congregation, who did not lie under 
any Church censure. These offerings were afterward 
divided into four parts. The first part went to the 
relief of the poor; the second to the maintenance of 
the Bishop ; the third part defrayed the expenses of 
the sacred fabric and its ornaments ; the fourth was 
divided among the subordinate Clergy. Indeed, from 
a remarkable passage of St. Chrysostom, it would seem 
that the early Christians never entered the Church to 
pray without giving alms to the poor, some of whom 
were stationed at the Church-door for the purpose. So 
deeply was the mind of our forefathers in the faith 
imbued with the connexion between Prayers and Alms; 


119 


ii.] On Almsgiving. 

so thoroughly were they inoculated with the Scriptural 
view that acts of homage to God must go hand in hand 
with acts of love of man. 

Now, without asserting that exactly the same form 
of Almsgiving would suit the present altered state of 
things, without maintaining (as nevertheless many 
wise and good men do) that the Offertory and the 
alms-chest could even now he advantageously made the 
medium of giving all that is given for the Service of 
God, and the relief of the poor, we may surely say that 
the principle of these primitive offerings is as applicable 
as ever, and that, if it were conscientiously applied by 
every Christian, the result would be an abundance of 
means for every good object, which would quite super¬ 
sede these occasional appeals. The principle is, to be 
systematic, regular, and methodical in our Alms, 
instead of casual and impulsive. All that is necessary 
in order to this is a little time, a little trouble (very 
little of either), and perhaps, I should add, a little moral 
courage. Let us first settle with our own minds, as in 
the sight of God, what proportion of our income is due 
to works of Piety and Charity. The proportion will 
vary very much; for it is clear that the same propor¬ 
tion will be much more severely felt when subtracted 
from a very narrow income, than when it is the mere 
exuberant overflow of a very large one. No one man 
can lay down a rule for another in this respect; the 
only point of importance is, that we should satisfy not 
the expectations of others, but the requirements of an 
enlightened and a pure conscience in ourselves, or, in 
other words, the claims of God. The proportion 
having been settled, all that follows is more or less 
mechanical, and may be done with a very slight ex¬ 
penditure of time. A private account is opened, 
exhibiting on one side all our receipts, on the other 
every item of our charitable expenditure. Periodically 
the account is examined. If it should appear that the 
sum of our charitable expenditure comes up to the 
proportion we have determined upon, well and good; 
we have done our duty, and have the satisfaction of 


120 On Almsgiving . [part 

knowing that we have done it. Should it exceed the 
proportion, the excess may be balanced (though I 
think it scarcely ever will he) by a retrenchment of 
charity in the succeeding period. But should it fall 
short of the proportion, it may he made a point of 
conscience at once to seal up the deficit, and send it off 
to the best Charitable Institution we know of. If every 
one would act thus,—poor as well as rich,—and the 
poor are quite as much hound to give their small pro¬ 
portion as the rich their large one,—I believe that the 
resources of deserving Charities would never fail. It is 
because Charities are thrown upon impulse, instead of 
principle, for their supplies, and because impulse is so 
fitful and casual a thing, that the funds of most of 
them fall off* as soon as the enthusiasm which started 
them subsides.—But benefits of a much higher kind 
would accrue from the exercise of systematic benevo¬ 
lence,—benefits, whose sphere is the spirit and moral 
being of the giver. It contributes greatly to that 
peace of mind, which is so essential an element of 
spiritual progress, to be assured that to the extent of 
our ability we are fulfilling our religious obligations. 
This assurance we can have respecting Almsgiving, 
only if we are giving on principle and methodically. 
And another happy effect of this methodical giving on 
the mind will be,—that the very satisfactoriness of the 
process is likely to lead to a further advance in the 
same direction. He who has conscientiously given one 
twentieth this year will feel urged to give a tenth the 
next. The appetite for Christian liberality will grow, 
when it is healthily indulged, instead of morbidly 
stimulated. And that wretched feeling that every fresh 
charitable appeal is an exaction, would wholly cease, 
when we know that a sum has been set apart for ex¬ 
penditure of this kind in one form or another; and our 
gift would have that element of alacrity and forward¬ 
ness essential to its acceptability; it would be given in 
the spirit prescribed by the Apostle: “ Let every man 
do according as he is disposed in his heart, not grudg¬ 
ingly, or of necessity; for God loveth a cheerful giver.” 


121 


li. 1 On Almsgiving. 

The whole of what has been said is an expansion of, 
and reduces itself to, the one idea, that Alms should be 
given on principle. Alms and Prayers are co-ordinate 
exercises of Piety ; they are both of them offerings to 
God ; and as, in the one case, we must be careful not 
to rob God of the time and the mental effort, so, in 
the other, we must be equally careful not to rob Him of 
the gold and silver, which are His due-. A portion of 
our time must be fenced round from the intrusion of 
worldly cares and secular business, if we are to dis¬ 
charge God’s claims upon us. And on the same prin¬ 
ciple a portion of our substance must be regarded as a 
sacred treasury, not to be invaded by our own neces¬ 
sities, much less by our self-indulgence, and love of 
luxury. 

The offerings made to God out of this treasury,— 
if made with faith in His Name,—are represented in 
Holy Scripture as memorials of us in Heaven. How 
inspiring the thought that we may have such memorials, 
—deeds which may serve (so to speak) to embalm our 
names, and keep them ever fresh and fragrant in that 
bright and cloudless realm ! The believing and beautiful 
action of the woman in the Gospel who anointed Our 
Lord’s head, as He sat at meat in Simon’s house, was 
to be rewarded,—has been rewarded,—in a similar 
manner. Wheresoever the Gospel has been preached 
in the whole world, that woman’s act of faith and piety 
has been rehearsed, commended, echoed on from the 
fathers to the children. A fame more glorious than 
hers, a memorial more rich in its results and con¬ 
sequences, as being a memorial not among men, but 
before God, is open to all of us who hear the Gospel. 
Do you desire that your name should be known in 
Heaven,—should be whispered and carried upward by 
the angels,—should be graven on the heart of our great 
High Priest,—should be mentioned by Him to God 
continually ? Aspire to Heaven with devout prayers 
and sighs. Seek Christ with devout sympathies and 
devout succours, in the poor, whom He has constituted 
His representatives. Multiply acts of faith, and acts 


122 On 'Frequenting the Holy Communion. [part 

of love. And these acts shall keep alive the remem¬ 
brance of you in the Heavenly Court, where no remem¬ 
brance is without a requital. Cornelius was recompensed 
for his prayers and alms, by the visit of an Angel, by 
the visit of an Apostle, by the glad tidings of the 
Gospel, and, to crown all, by the gift of the Holy 
Ghost. How striking an instance of the large and 
munificent scale, on which God responds to the desires 
and efforts which His own free Grace has prompted,— 
of His “ giving more ” (as is His wont) “ than either 
we desire or deserve!” How wonderful a fulfilment of 
the promise made by Our Lord both to secret Alms and 
secret Prayers,—“ Thy Father, which seeth in secret, 
Himself shall reward thee openly!” 


CHAPTER IX. 

ON FREQUENTING THE HOLT COMMUNION. 

“ Whether therefore ye eat , or drinJc , or whatsoever ye 
do, do all to the glory of God .”—1 Cor. x. 31. 

It is curious to observe how religious ideas are con¬ 
tinually in a state of flux and change. Hot only do 
Outward fashions alter, but habits of thought are 
different from what they once were. Controversies 
have shifted their ground; and the theological com¬ 
batants have gone off to a different part of the field. 
Time was when many a controversial lance was broken 
in our Church on the question at issue between 
Calvinists and Arminians. The keen interest once 
taken in that debate has entirely collapsed; and think¬ 
ing men on both sides would probably admit that there 
is much precious truth in both Calvinism and Armi- 
nianism,—which is only another form of saying that 
Holy Scripture makes statements which favour both. 
To pass from doctrines to practices (not that the two 
can ever be severed except in idea, for practice must 
ever be based upon doctrine), there is now in progress 



II.] On Frequenting tie Holy Communion. 123 

a revolution in our habits of thought on the subject 
of frequently communicating Serious Christians arc 
coming round gradually, it is presumed by the force 
of conviction, to the habit of communicating much 
oftener than they used to do. More frequent oppor¬ 
tunities of receiving the holy Supper are given by the 
Clergy ; an index in itself of a changed state of thought 
and feeling on the subject; for where there is no de¬ 
mand, there is usually no supply. And, accordingly, 
the old manuals of preparation for the Holy Commu¬ 
nion, excellent as several of them are, and containing, 
as many of them do, much valuable material for edifica¬ 
tion, are becoming, to a great extent, obsolete. They 
need to be thrown into a new form, adapted to a 
weekly or fortnightly recurrence of the Ordinance. 
For that the copious meditations and self-examinations, 
which most of them contain and recommend, should be 
gone through weekly, fortnightly,—nay even monthly, 
—by persons engaged in the active business of life, is of 
course out of the question,—a simple impossibility. A 
volume of preparatory devotions, (and several of these 
manuals are volumes,) implies that the Ordinance 
recurs but rarely, at great and solemn periods. 

Is the old method of rare Communion, or the new 
method of frequent Communion, the best? We believe 
the new method to be so, because it is based upon a 
truer view of the Ordinance. The frequency or rarity 
of celebration would be in itself of comparatively little 
moment, if it were a mere outward fashion, if there 
were no principle involved in it. But a principle there 
is, underlying, and giving rise to, the change of 
practice: and we rejoice to think that this principle 
is more freely and generally recognized than it has 
hitherto been. 

If the Eucharist were merely, as Zwingle most 
erroneously thought, a commemorative rite,—if the 
whole design of the Ordinance were to affect us with a 
picture of our Saviour’s Passion,—this design would 
doubtless be carried out more effectively by a rare than 
by a frequent Communion. For it is a law of the 


124 On Frequenting the Holy Communion. [part 

mind, from the operation of which we shall strive in 
vain to exempt ourselves, that the impression which is 
constantly repeated gradually loses its force. But the 
Lord’s Supper is not merely a commemoration, hut an 
actual channel or vehicle of Grace to the soul. It stands 
on the same footing in this respect with Prayer, reading 
of Scripture, public worship, and sermons; only we believe 
that it takes precedence of them all, as the instrument 
of a higher Grace, and a means of a closer communion 
with God. Observe that by the Word of God itself, 
the Eucharist is placed in the same category with the 
other means of Grace, and that it seems to be intimated 
that the early Christians were equally frequent in the 
observance of all of them. “ And they continued sted- 
fast in the Apostles ’ doctrine and fellowship ” (they 
constantly attended the teaching of the Apostles, and 
did not forsake the assembling of themselves together 
with them in the name of Christ), “ and in breaking 
of bread , and in prayers” There is no hint here that 
the doctrine and the prayers were to be of frequent re¬ 
currence, but the breaking of Bread to be reserved, as I 
may say, for state occasions. If all are means of Grace, 
and if the “ breaking of Bread,” as being the dis¬ 
tinctively Christian Ordinance,—yea, as communicating 
to the soul, not indeed by a carnal transubstantiation, 
but “ after an heavenly and spiritual manner,” the very 
Body and Blood of our crucified Redeemer,—is the 
highest means of Grace, why should not all recur with 
equal frequency ? Do we allege that the liveliness of 
our feelings respecting the Lord’s Supper will wear off 
with the frequent repetition of it ? Nay ; but it is not 
liveliness of feeling which in any Ordinance we should 
seek, but the strengthening of principle. The two 
objects are quite distinct. Feeling occasionally runs 
very high, when principle is at its lowest ebb. Church 
history supplies instances in abundance of spiritual 
ecstasies (mere Satanic delusions, of course), where 
there was no real submission of the will to God. And 
on the other hand, principle may be in its full strength, 
and faith may be really clinging to God with all the 


ii.] On Frequenting the Holy Communion. 125 

force of moral determination, while feeling seems to have 
ebbed away altogether out of the soul. Thus Our 
Lord cries out upon the cross that God has forsaken 
Him, while He is really tightening His hold upon the 
Father, and indicating this firmness of grasp by the 
little word expressive of so much clinging, “ My,” 
— “ My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken 
Me?” 

If superficial liveliness of feeling were what we ought 
to seek in the Ordinances of religion, there could be no 
question that too frequent repetition in any of them 
w r ould be a mistake, calculated to counteract their 
influence. If for the next two years we shut up our 
Bibles, and thus divested our minds in some measure of 
their glib familiarity with the phraseology of Scripture, 
and at the end of that period opened them at one of the 
more pathetic or sublime passages, that passage would 
stir in our minds a far more vivid emotion, than 
Scripture ever communicates under our present cir¬ 
cumstances. At the first outbreak of the Reformation, 
when the Sacred Volume was scarce, and the people 
sunk in gross ignorance of its truths, men had a much 
keener appreciation of it, a much livelier feeling of its 
preciousness than now, when it lies on the shelf of 
every cottage, and its comparatively fresh-looking 
binding shows the neglect in which spiritual blessings 
are held, as soon as they have become cheap, and easy 
of access. But in order that we might again have 
those vivid impressions respecting God’s truth which 
men had in those old days, when they gathered round 
the chained Bible in the parish ohurch, and appointed 
one of their party to read it aloud to them, it would be 
a strange method of proceeding, and one based on a 
false logic, to unlearn as much of this blessed Book as 
we possibly could, in the hope of thus coming fresh to 
the perusal of it. Then why is not the same reasoning, 
which holds good in the case of the Holy Scriptures, 
to be applicable to other means of Grace ? If all we 
sought in the Eucharist were a certain natural sen¬ 
sibility to the Death of Christ, which Death the 


126 On Frequenting the Holy Communion. [pabt 

Ordinance is appointed to show forth, then indeed 
might we go once a year only, like the Scottish 
peasants, over hill and dale, to partake of the Heavenly 
Banquet;—then indeed might we enjoy the artless¬ 
ness with which the rite is there celebrated, as being a 
nearer approach to the original institution in the way 
of picture. But I seek much more in the Eucharist 
than to look at a picture and he touched by it. I seek 
to be fed in that Holy Ordinance ; to he spiritually 
nourished, through the elements of Bread and Wine, 
with that Flesh which is meat indeed, and that Blood 
which is drink indeed. And if the things of the body 
furnish any sufficient analogy to the things of the soul, 
I should fear that the receiving this Heavenly Food 
only once a year would be something very much 
resembling spiritual starvation. 

Yet argue as we may, our arguments will go for 
nothing against instinct. And in devout minds which 
have been reared under the old system of things, there 
is an instinct adverse to very frequent Communions, 
which it is difficult, if not impossible, to supplant. 
We believe that in this instinct there is an element of 
reason and reverence, however false may be the con¬ 
clusions to which it leads ; and that at all events our 
forefathers had hold of a truth, for which it behoves us 
to find some place in the modern system. Let us 
endeavour to analyze the feeling of reluctance which 
many good persons still entertain to a frequent (say a 
weekly) Communion. 

Unquestionably, reverence towards the Ordinance 
has some share in engendering the reluctance. It is 
felt, and very justly felt, that in order to make so 
frequent a Communion of real value to us, there must 
be a general correspondence between the Ordinance and 
our lives. There is something dreadful in the thought 
of so high an Ordinance degenerating into formality ; 
and degenerate into formality it must, unless, con¬ 
temporaneously with this frequent celebration, there 
should be a general raising of the tone of the recipient’s 
character and conduct. This is all true, just, and 


II.] On Frequenting the Holy Communion . 127 

sound,—right in feeling; right in principle. But why 
should we implicitly reject the other branch of the 
alternative ? Why is there not to be a general raising 
of the tone of our character and conduct? Why 
should we resolve to acquiesce in respectability, and 
virtually decline to aim at sanctity ? Ah, sluggish 
will, thou art in fault! Frequent Communions demand 
higher aspirations; and higher aspirations involve 
stronger efforts and harder struggles. And these 
efforts and struggles are a tax upon the will, which the 
will perhaps is not quite ready to pay. Is this the 
secret cause of our reluctance? I believe it is fre¬ 
quently one cause. For if a man he honestly bent, not 
merely on reaching a very fair average standard of 
excellence, but on “ perfecting holiness in the fear of 
the Lord,” the reluctance very soon vanishes. Fre¬ 
quent Communion is then willingly embraced as a 
help, not declined out of a false homage to the Ordi¬ 
nance. 

But what, it may be asked, constitutes conformity of 
life to the Ordinance of the Holy Communion ? What 
is that habitual state, the living in which (more or less) 
establishes that correspondence between us and the 
Ordinance, which makes a very frequent reception avail¬ 
able ? Let the text which stands at the head of this 
Chapter furnish us with an answer to this question. 

It is a great mystery, which teaches us many 
valuable lessons, that God has consecrated our reception 
of food into the highest Ordinances of religion. What 
may this circumstance be designed to teach us ? The 
lesson expressly stated in the text, “ Whether there¬ 
fore ye eat or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the 
glory of God.” The reception of food is a common 
action,—homely, trivial, having nothing dignified or 
sublime about it, as is intimated by the words, “ what¬ 
soever ye do,” following upon the specification of it,— 
“ Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye 
do, do all to the glory of God.” And again, the re¬ 
ception of food is a necessary action,—it is what we 
must do, in order to maintain our lives. The implica- 


128 On Frequenting the Holy Communion. [part 

tion of the text, then, is that in our common and trivial 
actions, even in those which are bound upon us by 
necessity, and which we cannot any how escape from 
doing,—there is room and scope for glorifying Almighty 
God. On the one hand, we may do them mechanically 
and in a spirit of routine, or from the low motive of the 
pleasure which is to be had from them, or from the 
wrong motive of human praise. Or, on the other hand, 
we may do them, or strive to do them, in a religious 
spirit, fixing the eye of the mind, while we do them, 
on the great end of God’s Service and Kingdom. In 
one word, we may either go through common life in a 
common way, tying up our religion to Public Worship 
on Sundays, and private prayer on week-days, or we 
may go through common life with an uncommon motive, 
—the thought of God, and the desire of pleasing and 
serving Him in all things. Now if a man should be 
going through common life thus,—if he sanctifies and 
elevates it, or even strives, as much as he can, to 
sanctify and elevate it, by importing into it a Christian 
motive, there is between him and the Holy Communion 
a certain correspondence, which is easily perceived. 
What were the materials out of which Christ framed 
the highest rite of His holy Religion ? Did He pre¬ 
scribe a costly sacrifice, such as it would he a tax upon 
human resources to furnish? No such thing. He 
blessed a common meal, and consecrated it into a 
Sacrament, and made it the means, by a marvellous 
mystery of Grace, of communicating Himself to man’s 
soul. What did He mean by so doing ? Many things 
of grave import, some things, possibly, beyond our 
reach; but this most assuredly,—that the genius of 
His Religion, as expressed in its highest Ordinance, 
is to sanctify all the actions of human life, even 
down to the humblest and most necessary. To do 
this is, if I may so say, to breathe the atmosphere of 
the Holy Communion, and to have such a congeniality 
with it, as shall never make it match ill or show 
unsuitably upon the general groundwork of our lives. 
Reader, are you and I striving thus to sanctify,—not 


ii.] On Frequenting the Holy Communion . 129 

only holy seasons and holy exercises,—but all the 
common actions of daily life ? Then shall we feel at¬ 
tracted towards a frequent reception of the Holy Com¬ 
munion, as one great means of furthering our object. 

But in the feeling of reluctance to frequent Com¬ 
munion, there is one decidedly good element, which we 
must not pass over without notice. Persons think it 
beneficial to have certain solemn and stated periods, at 
which they may look into the affairs of their souls 
more narrowly, wind up their spiritual accounts more 
at leisure, and make a fresh start, as it were, upon their 
Christian course. These periods have been with them 
hitherto their Communions ; each of which has thus 
become a sort of era in their inner life. But, if they 
are now to communicate every week or every fortnight, 
this solemn scrutiny and preparation, if it be not an 
actual impossibility, will become an unreality. Special 
devotional exercises are good at special seasons, but 
the mind cannot profitably be under such a strain every 
week or every fortnight. Sundays are great helps to a 
holy life ; but only one day in every seven is appointed 
to be a Sunday. 

In all this there is great force and reason. And he 
who is minded to live the Devout Life must on no 
account abandon the excellent practice of periodically 
examining his conscience on every department of duty, 
and seeking from God in prayer, and retirement from 
the world, that fresh spring of holy energy which is to 
be found for all of us in the Blood and Grace of Jesus 
Christ. But why must this necessarily be done before 
every Communion ? Why might it not be done only 
before the three great Communions of Christmas, 
Easter, and Whit-Sunday ? Or if even this be found 
impracticable, as with persons heavily engaged will very 
likely be the case, why should not these special devo¬ 
tions be limited to one Communion in the year, that of 
Christmas or that of Easter ? Assuredly, a thorough 
and sifting Self-examination, once satisfactorily per¬ 
formed, is better than three or four cursory inspections 
of the conscience : Self-examination being a matter in 


130 On frequenting the Holy Communion . [part 

which to be cursory and superficial is usually to deceive 
oneself. Then for ordinary Communions, assuming, of 
course,—and I am assuming all through,—that the 
conscience is kept clear of wilful sin,—our usual evening 
retrospect of the day, with some very trifling addition 
to our evening prayer on Friday and Saturday, the 
eighty-fourth Psalm, for example, and the prayer of 
access in the Communion Office, “We do not presume 
to come to this Thy table,” &c., would abundantly 
suffice. 

Have we now reached and met in any mind the 
objections which are felt to a frequent Communion? 
Or does there remain still a lurking mistrust of such a 
practice, under the suspicion, perhaps, of which Eng¬ 
lishmen are at all times so susceptible, that it is 
popish ? Such a suspicion is, in the first place, not 
borne out by the facts. Romanists, as a general rule, 
although they constantly assist at the Mass, (that is, 
are present at the celebration, and follow what is being 
done mentally,) communicate much seldomer than 
English Churchmen. Their unscriptural tenet of Tran- 
substantiation, giving as it does a false awfulness and a 
superstitious mysteriousness to the Ordinance, frightens 
them away and holds them back from frequent Com¬ 
munion. So much for the real state of the case among 
them. And as regards the theory of frequent Com¬ 
munion, by way of showing that it is by no means 
exclusively Romanist, let me close this Chapter with 
an extract from those touching and edifying ad¬ 
dresses published under the title of the Adieux of 
Adolphe Monod. The speaker was a French Pro¬ 
testant pastor, eminent for piety and for his extra¬ 
ordinary abilities as a preacher. The pulpit from which 
he spoke,—and it is sometimes the most effective of all 
pulpits,—was a death-bed, around which, Sunday by 
Sunday, (for he lingered long,) he gathered as many 
members of his little flock as the sick-room would hold, 
and received with them the Holy Communion, and 
spoke to them of such subjects as the “ Regrets of a 
Hying Man.” One of these addresses is headed “ Fre- 


ii.] On Frequenting the Holy Communion. 131 

quent Communion.” While guarding myself against 
being understood to recommend, as he does, a daily 
Communion, 1 willingly quote him as an advocate of 
frequent celebrations. Thus he speaks to the little 
flock at his bed-side, the words being taken down from 
his lips by his children:—“ My dear friends, I wish 
you to know that in the frequent reception of the 
Communion during my illness I find much comfort, 
and I hope also much fruit. It is a great evil that the 
Communion should be celebrated so rarely in our 
Church, an evil which people on all sides are now 
applying themselves to remedy. Our [Reformers, in 
establishing this order of things, have taken care to 
explain that they did it only for a time, and to prevent 
certain very grave abuses, which had crept into the 
primitive Church. But what they did as a temporary 
precaution has remained for ages in the greater number 
of our churches. At length we reach the time when 
we may expect to have frequent Communion restored 
to us. Calvin says somewhere, that the Communion 
ought to be celebrated at least every Sunday. Remark 
this at least. If it should be every Sunday at least , 
what should it be at most ? At most must be, to take 
it as the early Christians did, according to Calvin (and 
that comes out, too, clearly enough from the Acts of 
the Apostles), every day from house to house, at the 
close of the family repast. Each of you may have 
remarked that rare Communion gives I know not what 
strange and extraordinary idea of the Communion,—of 
the preparation which ought to precede, and of the 
emotions which follow it. On the contrary, frequent 
Communion makes us understand much better the true 
character of this Sacrament; and it is impossible that 
daily Communion should fail to put us in perfect 
possession of that true character ; for it teaches us to 
connect the Communion with all that there is most 
simple in Christian life, just as a repast is one of the 
simplest things in ordinary fife. But whether there 
should be a daily celebration or not, certainly in seeing 
in the Communion the simplest expression of our faith, 
K 2 


132 Of the Public Service of the Church. [part 

we shall profit by it most, we shall gather from it the 
greatest fruit, and it is thus that it will nourish our 
souls most effectually with the Flesh and with the 
Blood of Jesus Christ.” 


CHAPTER X. 

OP THE PUBLIC SERYICE OE THE CHURCH. 

ct If two of you shall agree on earth as touching any 
thing that they shall as7c, it shall be done for them of 
My Father which is in heaven I — Matt, xviii. 19. 

It would be well if, in considering the various Ordi¬ 
nances of Religion, we began by narrowly examining 
their charter, as it exists in God’s Holy Word. How 
shall we ascertain their true character ? how shall we 
know what we may expect from them, and what we 
may not expect ? how, in short, shall we secure our¬ 
selves, against a false estimate of them, otherwise than 
by looking into their original constitution ? The exact 
limits of a patent or prerogative, granted by the 
government of a country to any individual, can only be 
ascertained by consulting the terms of the patent. 
Let the holder abstract from the public records, and 
hide away the parchment on which those terms are 
written, and there are then no powers which he may 
not assume, on the general vague representation that 
the patent is his. 

The passage which stands at the head of this Lecture 
contains the charter of Public Worship. The Church 
has given to Public Worship divers forms of its own 
devising; hut here we have, if I may so say, the raw 
material, out of which all forms are manufactured. 
Now, from the examination of this charter, we will 
seek, first, to ascertain the true theory of Public 
Worship ; and then draw from that theory some prac¬ 
tical hints for the conduct of this devotional exercise, 



133 


Ii ] Of the Public Service of the Church. 

It is not with any controversial object, for con¬ 
troversy is seldom edifying, but by way of clearly 
defining the idea, that we say, at the outset, that in 
the practice both of the Church of Rome, and of the 
Protestant sects in this country, we trace a degeneracy 
from the Scriptural theory of Public Worship. Ex¬ 
tremes continually meet; and it is not a little remark¬ 
able that both by Romanists and Dissenters the 
functions of Public Worship are all devolved upon the 
clergy,—whether priest or officiating minister,—and 
the people take, I do not say no part, but no common 
part with him. The Mass is the chief office of the 
Roman Church ; at which even those who do not com¬ 
municate assist, as it is called, every Sunday. In what 
does this assistance consist ? The question may he 
answered by examining the books of devotion recom¬ 
mended and used at the Mass. It will be found, on 
looking into such books, that the idea of the con¬ 
gregation’s praying as one body,—using the minister 
as their mouthpiece, and signifying their assent to him 
by occasional responds,—is, if not eliminated, very 
much obscured. The priest is doing one act, supposed 
to he sacrificial, to the effectiveness of which the con¬ 
gregation can contribute nothing; and while he is 
doing it, the people are furnished with separate de¬ 
votions appropriate to the several stages of it, which 
each person recites secretly. The priest and they are 
not asking the same thing at the same time ; and the 
only agreement which there is in their petitions stands 
in place and time,—in the fact that they are offered in 
the same church at the same hour. Nay it might 
happen that several of the worshippers should use 
different books of devotions on the Mass, even as with 
us different members of the congregation bring with 
them different books of devotion on the Holy Com¬ 
munion ; and that thus two persons, kneeling side by 
side, might be so far from agreeing in what they ask, 
as to be offering two different petitions at the same 
moment. If the principle were carried out to an 
extreme, no two members of the congregation would be 


134 Of the Public Service of the Church. [paet 

praying for exactly the same thing; and Public Prayer 
would resolve itself into a series of private prayers said 
secretly in public. But the truth is, that Private 
Prayer and Public Prayer are wholly different things, 
separated from one another by a much deeper dis¬ 
tinction than the mere accident that the one is offered 
in the chamber, the other in the face of the Church. 
Their Scriptural charters proclaim that they are Ordi¬ 
nances differently constituted. The charter of Private 
Prayer runs thus: “ Thou, when thou prayest, enter 
into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door,”— 
exclusion of the world from the thoughts, if not from 
the place, is an essential,—“ pray to thy Father which 
is in secret; and thy Father, which seeth in secret, 
shall reward thee openly.” The charter of Public 
Prayer, on the other hand, runs thus : “ If two of you 
shall agree on earth as touching any thing that they 
shall ask, it shall be done for them of My Father which 
is in heaven.” Agreement in the petition (not neces¬ 
sarily, as I understand it, agreement in the place or 
time of offering the petition, though that is both 
natural and proper) is an essential of this sort of prayer, 
so that if you remove this agreement, the prayer ceases 
to be Public Prayer at all. It is not the resorting to 
the same House of Prayer, it is not the being side by 
side with one’s neighbour in bodily presence, but it is 
the mental and cordial agreement with him as to what 
we shall ask, which constitutes the prayer public. 
Develope this idea a little further, and you will arrive 
at the conclusion, which is as rational as it is Scrip¬ 
tural, that Private Prayer touches and deals with the 
relations of the individual to God, those relations to 
which no other heart than his own is privy, his secret 
sins, trials, struggles, successes; whereas Public Prayer 
embraces his relations as a member of the Church, not 
only to the Head of the Church, but also to the other 
members. In the one, there can usually be no agree¬ 
ment, by reason of the diversity of characters and 
wants. In the other we approach God as a Society, 
incorporated by the royal charter of His Son, having an 


135 


n.] Of the Public Service of the Church. 

understanding with other members as to our wants and 
petitions, and framing them in language so general as 
to meet the necessities of all. To use an illustration, 
Private Prayer is the exhibition of a biography to God; 
Public Prayer, the exhibition of a history. A biography 
is a distinct thing from a history. The one presents 
the individual in the private sentiments which actuate 
him; the other in his public enterprises, as a member 
of the body politic. And on account of this difference 
of character, no collection of biographies of any period 
would form a history of the period, any more than the 
aggregate of private devotions said in public constitutes 
public devotion. At the same time it must be admitted 
that, just as biographies mention occasionally the 
public exploits of their subjects, and histories some¬ 
times delineate the private characters of public men, so 
Public Prayer and Private Prayer will occasionally 
trench upon the strict provinces of one another,—as 
when in his closet a man intercedes for the whole 
Church, or as when in the congregation some passage 
of the Liturgy comes home to our own present wants 
with a peculiar force and appropriateness. Suffice it 
that, generally speaking, the provinces of the two 
are distinct. We may not press any distinction too 
hard. 

Turning now to the Protestant sects; does their 
practice realize better the true ideal of Public Worship 
than that of Eomanists ? We hold it to be at least a 
nearer approach to the true ideal; for the theory of all 
Protestant Worship certainly is, that there shall be 
agreement as to the things asked for, that minister and 
people shall join in the same petitions. But how can 
such agreement be effectually secured in the absence 
of a Liturgy, or form previously prepared, unless the 
pastor and congregation should meet before Divine 
Service, and come to some understanding as to the 
substance of their petitions; a course which, if not 
impracticable, has probably never been attempted? 
In extempore prayer it is out of the question that the 
people can know what the minister is about to pray 


13G Of the Public Service of the Church. [part 

for: when he has uttered his petition, they may, of 
course, give their mental and cordial assent to it, and 
doubtless devout Dissenters, of which there are num¬ 
bers, endeavour to do so; but before this mental 
process, which consists of first taking in the petition 
with the mind, and then assimilating it with the will, 
is well finished, the minister has passed on to another 
petition, faster than the worshipper can follow, and the 
latter soon finds that there is no way of really joining, 
hut by listening, as he would to a Sermon, and giving 
a general assent to the contents of the prayer by means 
of the Amen at the end. On the other hand, a 
Liturgy, if seriously and intelligently used, necessarily 
secures exact agreement among the worshippers as to 
the things sued for; nay, determines even the form 
in which each supplication shall present itself to the 
minds of all. There are, we believe, many other 
advantages accruing to a Liturgy like ours, which are 
beside the purpose of the present argument. We prize 
our Prayer Book for its intrinsic beauty, for its chaste 
fervour, for its primitive simplicity, for its close 
harmony with Scripture, for the way in which it fences 
us against false doctrine; but the fundamental ad¬ 
vantage of a Liturgy, merely as a Liturgy, is this, that 
it secures, far more than any extempore prayer can do, 
that agreement in the things asked for, which is part 
of the charter of Public Prayer, and so grounds the act 
of worship on Christ’s own Word of Promise : “ If two 
of you shall agree on earth as touching any thing that 
they shall ask, it shall be done for them of My Father 
which is in heaven.” 

We have canvassed freely the defective theories of 
Public Worship, maintained by those who are opposed 
to us on either side; but it is in no spirit of boastful¬ 
ness that we have done so, nor with any desire to 
conceal our own faults, which are both patent and 
abundant. The truer and more Scriptural our Church’s 
theory of Public Worship is, the more cause have we 
for humiliation, that in practice we so grievously fall 


137 


li.] Of the Public Service of the Church. 

short of it. It is true that we have every security, 
which mere rule and system can give us, for agreement 
in the substance of our petitions; but agreement is 
after all a matter of the mind and heart, and cannot be 
prescribed by rule or system. Without such cordial 
agreement, the most beautiful Liturgy in the world 
soon degenerates into a dreary and formal recitation, 
lacking both the reality of the Romanist’s secret 
devotion, and the vivacity and freshness of the 
Dissenter’s extempore prayer. We might, if we duly 
prized and properly used our advantages, make our 
churches the very gate of Heaven to every devout soul; 
as it is, the felt formalism of the Service in many of 
them, (for formalism is a thing felt by instinct,) rather 
chills and throws back the energies of spiritual life. 
Where is the remedy to be sought ? In the efforts of 
individuals to bring about a better state of things. In 
vain do we declaim against the Church of our day in 
the abstract. The Church is composed of individual 
members, upon each of whom rests his own portion of 
the blame and responsibility; it is I, and you, Reader, 
who are in fault. If we are minded for the future to 
do justice to the system of our Church, and bring out 
the beauty of its theory, let us resolve first, each one 
for himself, to do what in us lies to contribute to such 
a result. And let us consider whether the following 
hints, all founded on the charter of Public Prayer 
already quoted, may not be of service to us. 

1. Let us seek to understand the Liturgy of the 
Church. If agreement in our petitions is to be secured 
by the use of it, it is evident that the worshippers 
must, each one for himself, bring some considerable 
portion of their minds to it, before they come to 
Church. The Morning and Evening Prayer, indeed, 
are more or less familiarized to our ears by constant 
repetition ; but then familiarity with the sound is a 
totally different thing (as a child’s knowledge of the 
Catechism proves) from intelligent appreciation of the 
sense—nay, is probably more or less of a hindrance to 
that intelligent appreciation. Words got by heart are 


138 Of the Public Service of the Church. [pabt 

foolishly supposed to be thoroughly mastered, whereas 
all that we have secured of them is the rhythm and the 
run of the style, and the meaning, Proteus-like, has 
given us the slip. How many English Churchmen 
have ever made the various petitions of the Morning 
and Evening Prayer a subject of thought,—who yet 
know the Service quite well enough superficially, to 
catch up and fling abroad certain captious popular 
objections to parts of it? And in the Occasional 
Services, the Christening, the Wedding, or the Burial, 
though the first of these has all the dignity and all 
the efficacy of a sacrament, and the two last are of a 
nature to enlist peculiarly our personal feelings; where 
is the man who seriously asks himself, before he goes 
to Church, what are the blessings for which he is about 
to sue ? Yet surely we must at least ask ourselves this 
question, if we would avail ourselves of the opportunity 
of agreement which our Liturgy affords, and so avail 
ourselves of Our Lord’s Promise to united Prayer. We 
must think about our Prayer Books, as well as about 
our Bibles, if we are to profit by them. The real 
action of a man’s own mind upon the Liturgy would be 
worth a great deal of book learning. However, if 
explanation and comment be required, by those who 
wish to study the subject chiefly in its devotional 
aspect, Dean Comber supplies plentiful and wholesome 
matter; and for those who desire something less prolix 
and less expensive than the works of Comber, Shepherd 
on the Common Prayer may be found suitable. It 
would be one great point (and I mention it, because in 
all studies a definite and circumscribed aim is of great 
importance) to make the Psalms thoroughly available 
in Public Devotion,—to say them, or sing them, with 
more of understanding, as well as more of spirit, than 
heretofore. With persons who are only moderately 
acquainted with Divinity, some commentary will pro¬ 
bably be found necessary for this purpose, and Bishop 
Horne’s is perhaps the best that can be recommended. 
I may add that it is a great clue to the right devo¬ 
tional use of those Psalms, which manifestly refer to 


139 


it ] Of the Public Service of the Church. 

Christ, to remember, while saying or singing them, 
that we are one with Him; and that we repeat them 
in Church as being identified with Him in God’s sight 
—“ members of His Body, of His Flesh, and of His 
Bones;” not as if we were reading mere instructive 
lessons. 

2. Do not allow Public Worship to degenerate into 
a mere saying of your private prayers in Church. Set 
yourselves against this selfish and narrowing tendency; 
for it rather defeats the end of the Ordinance. Think 
of the many others who are around you at Public 
Worship, of their sins, trials, wants, wishes, mercies,—■ 
trying to throw yourself into their case. Be you pray¬ 
ing and giving thanks for them, while they are praying 
and giving thanks for you; this will constitute a sweet 
agreement, a beautiful symphony, in the ears of the Most 
High. Too many Christians, good and pious in the 
main, go to Church with this idea working in their 
minds: “I go to ask for what I myself want, and to 
give thanks for what I myself have received, and I do 
not busy myself with other people.” Then you might 
nearly as well stay at home. The closet is the place for 
pouring out the heart before God, and laying down the 
secret burdens at the Throne of Grace. The Church is 
the place for the intercommunion of Saints with one 
another, and of all with God. Hence the great com¬ 
prehensiveness of the terms in which our Confession 
and Thanksgiving are drawn up. They are expressly 
framed to cover all cases. 

3. Let not the outward expression of agreement be 
wanting; or, in other words, be careful to make in an 
audible voice all the responses prescribed by the Church. 
This may seem a slight matter in itself; but it really 
rests upon profounder principles than we are apt to 
imagine. In the first place, the audible respond is a 
valuable protest in favour of the undoubted Scriptural 
truth, that all Christians are, in virtue of their Baptism, 
priests, and that all therefore are bound to join and 
bear their part in the spiritual sacrifices which are 
offered to God in His Ghurch. The practice of 


1-10 Of the Pallic Service of the Church. [part 

Romanists and Dissenters, by which the clergy or 
officials recite the whole Office, obscures this precious 
and important truth: our practice as members of the 
Church of England ought to bear testimony to it. 
But besides this, there is in us, our nature being com¬ 
posite, a strange mysterious sympathy between the 
outward and the inward, which makes us dependent 
for the life and energy of our spirits upon the little 
outward symptoms and accidents of our position. Our 
bodies expand or contract according to the temperature 
of the atmosphere which surrounds them; and our 
minds in a spiritual atmosphere, which makes itself- 
felt in just the same subtle and delicate way as the 
natural atmosphere, observe the same law. If persons 
around us in the congregation are merely silent auditors 
of the Service, not active participators in it: much 
more, if they are careless, slovenly, and indevout, our 
own devotion is instantaneously chilled, and, as it were, 
thrown inward. If, on the other hand, they have all 
the appearance of earnest worshippers, devotion soon 
stirs and wakens up in our own heart, much as a frozen 
snake will move, and uncoil itself, and rear its crest, 
when brought near the fire. Throw, then, your con¬ 
tribution of heart, and soul, and sympathy into the 
Service of the Church, by making the responses simply 
and sincerely, in your natural voice. Berridge seems 
to have understood well the great charm of congre¬ 
gational worship, when he thus writes respecting the 
mutual salutation of the priest and people, as given in 
his own little Church at Everton: 

“ When I say, ‘ The Lord be with you,’ I love to 
hear their murmur of response breaking forth from 
all corners of the Church, ‘ And with thy spirit.’ It 
reminds me of those words of the Revelation, descrip¬ 
tive of the worship of the redeemed at the marriage 
supper of the Lamb: ‘ I heard as it were the voice of a 
great multitude, and as the voice of many waters, and 
as the voice of many thunderings, saying, Alleluia! for 
the Lord God omnipotent reigneth.’ The Dissenters 
have nothing to compare with it.” 


II. J Of the Public Service of the Church. 141 

It should be our ambition to bring the worship of 
the Church Militant into as close a resemblance with 
that of the Church Triumphant as our circumstances 
will admit. To this great result each one may con¬ 
tribute something by bringing to Church a thoughtful 
and prepared mind, a devout heart, and a humble voice. 
Let but a few worshippers do this, and oftener than we 
think we shall seem to intercept an echo of that sinless 
and perfect Worship which is ever carried on above. 

We have spoken of the agreement of the members 
of Christ’s Body as that which gives its character to 
Public Worship. But what are the members without 
the Head ? Only so many bricks of an arch without 
a key-stone. There can be no agreement without the 
Head: for it is the Head which holds the members 
together, not in unity only, but in existence. Not 
therefore without a very profound connexion of thought 
does Our Lord thus complete the passage, upon which 
we have been founding our remarks: “ If two of you 
shall agree on earth as touching any thing that they 
shall ask, it shall be done for them of My Father which 
is in Heaven. For where two or three are gathered 
together in My Name, there am I in the midst of 
them.” 

There is great significance in the “ For.” He would 
have us to understand that it is His Presence in the 
midst of the two or three gathered together in His 
Name, which lends all the efficacy to their petitions. 
The High Priest, He would say, is in the midst of the 
worshippers, whose functions of Atonement and Inter¬ 
cession are the alone procuring cause of the acceptance 
of their prayers. Then our last practical recommendation 
shall be that, as in Private Prayer our thoughts are 
turned to that God who seeth in secret, so in Public 
Worship we should seek to realize a rather more de¬ 
finite conception of the Presence of the Incarnate God. 
The human presence visibly around us in the Church 
is the pledge, the token, the Sacrament of His. He is 
among them in all the sympathies of His Humanity, 
in all the glories of His Divinity, in all the precious 


142 


On Self-Jtecollectedness [ part ? 

virtues of His Mediatorial Work. And it will be found 
useful, before the commencement of the Service, and at 
any of the necessary breaks which occur in the course 
of it, to occupy the mind with the thought of His 
Presence. The apprehension of it, and nothing short 
of the apprehension of it, will impart to Public Worship 
a mingled sweetness and solemnity, which will con¬ 
strain us to exclaim with the Psalmist: “ How amiable 
are Thy tabernacles, 0 Lord of Hosts! My soul 
longeth, yea, even fainteth for the courts of the Lord. 
Blessed are they that dwell in Thy house: they will be 
still praising Thee.” 


CHAPTER XI. 

ON SELF-EECOLLECTEDNESS AND EJACTTLATOEY 
PEAYEE. 

“Pray without ceasing .”— 1 Tiless. v. 13. 

The Apostle bids us “ pray without ceasing.” Yet of 
our Blessed Lord, the great model, as of every other 
virtue, so also of Prayer, it is expressly said by the 
Evangelist St. Luke that, “ as He was praying in a 
certain place, He ceased .” The precept and the Example 
are capable of an easy reconciliation. When it is said 
that Christ ceased from prayer, it is meant that He 
ceased from stated prayer, from prayer offered probably 
upon His knees. When St. Paul exhorts us to “ pray 
without ceasing,” he means that we should maintain 
unbroken the soul’s communion with God. 

Prayer is to be regarded not only as a distinct 
exercise of Religion, for which its own time must be 
set apart, but as a process woven into the texture 
of the Christian’s mind, and extending through the 
length and breadth of his life. Like the golden thread 
in a tissue, it frequently disappears beneath the com¬ 
mon threads. It disappears, and is hidden from the 



143 


ii.] and Ejaculatory Prayer. 

eye; yet nevertheless, it is substantially there, like a 
stream running underground for a certain period of its 
course. Suddenly, the thread emerges into sight again 
on the upper surface of the tissue, and suddenly again 
disappears; and thus it penetrates the whole texture, 
although occasionally hidden. This is a very just illus¬ 
tration of the matter in hand. Look from without 
upon the Christian’s life, and you will see divers occu¬ 
pations and employments, many of which, it may be, 
call for the exercise of his mind. But beneath the 
mind’s surface there is an undercurrent, a golden thread 
of Prayer, always there, though often latent, and fre¬ 
quently rising up to view not only in stated acts of 
worship, but in holy ejaculations. We are now passing 
from the consideration of the devotional life of the 
Christian to that of his practical life, and we make 
Ejaculatory Prayer the bridge to the latter part of our 
great subject, because it is the exercise by which busi¬ 
ness and devotion are interlaced one with another. 

Prayer has been truly called the Christian’s breath 
of life. The image applies to Prayer in that broad sense 
of the word in which the Apostle bids us pray without 
ceasing, and we cannot gain a better insight into the 
meaning of the precept, than by developing it a little. 

Let us consider, then, the process of natural life. It 
is carried on by an unintermitted series of inhalations 
and exhalations. The air is drawn inwards first, and 
fills the lungs, and then thrown out again, that fresh 
may be taken in. 

Similarly, Mental Prayer consists of two processes; 
recollecting or gathering up the mind, and breathing it 
out towards God. The first is to enter into the 
closet of the heart, and shut the door upon all but 
God. The second is to pray to our Father, which is in 
secret. 

1. To recollect or gather up the mind, is to summon 
it in from its wanderings (as a shepherd drives home to 
the fold a stray sheep), and to place it consciously in 
God’s Presence. God, though present every where, has 
His special residence, as being a pure Spirit, in our 


Ill On Self-Recollectedness [part 

minds. “ In Him we live, and move, and have our 
being.” He is somewhere in the recesses of the soul, in 
the springs of our existence, in that mysterious, dark, 
cavernous region of our nature, where the wishes, 
feelings, thoughts, emotions, take their earliest rise. I 
say, it is a dark region this spirit of ours, or rather this 
depth of our spirit; even as the Holy of Holies, the 
heart of the Temple, was perfectly dark, and not lighted 
by a single window. Yet was there the majesty of the 
Divine Presence in that small dark chamber, between 
the outspread wings of the Cherubim. And, similarly, 
the mind is a sanctuary, in the centre of which the Lord 
sits enthroned, the lamp of the consciousness burning 
before Him. All this is the case with our minds, 
whether we turn our thoughts to it or not. That we 
should turn our thoughts to it,— that the mind should 
ever and anon, both amid business and recreation, be 
called home for a second or two to the Presence of God 
dwelling in its dark recesses; this is the meaning of 
recollectedness of spirit. In days of hard and drudging 
work, in days of boisterous merriment, in days of ex¬ 
citement and anticipation, it is wonderfully refreshing 
thus to recollect the mind, and place it consciously 
under the eye of the Divine Majesty. It is like a 
breath of sweet air coming across us in a foul and 
crowded alley ; or a strain of sweet music stealing up 
to our window, amid the din and discord of a populous 
city. Pleasant it is upon the mountains to hear the 
horn blow, as a signal to the lowing and bleating 
cattle to withdraw from pasture, and be safely folded 
for the night. We associate repose and security with 
that strange wild blare of the rudely manufactured 
trumpet; and the association is most fascinating. And 
when the Good Shepherd, by the inward whispers of 
His Voice, calls us to come back from the wanderings 
of our thoughts and the excitements of our passions, 
into our own spirits, there to be alone with God, and 
consciously under His eye, can there fail of being repose 
and a halcyon calm in that call ? 

2. The second process in the maintenance of animal 


II.] and Ejaculatory Prayer. 145 

life is exhalation ; the throwing out of the breath which 
has been inhaled. 

This corresponds in nature to what divines have 
called Ejaculatory Prayer in the spiritual world. Ejacu* 
latory Prayer is Prayer darted up from the heart to 
God, not at stated intervals, but in the course of our 
daily occupations and amusements. The word “ ejacu¬ 
latory ” is derived from the Latin word for a dart or 
arrow, and there is an idea in it which one would be 
loath indeed to forfeit. Imagine an English archer, 
strolling through a forest in the old times of Crecy and 
Agincourt, when the yeomen of this island were trained 
to deliver their arrows with the same unfailing precision 
as “ a left-handed Gibeonite” discharging a stone bullet 
from his sling. A bird rises in the brushwood under 
his feet, a bird of gorgeous plumage or savoury flesh. 
He takes an arrow from his quiver, draws his bow to its 
full stretch, and sends the shaft after the bird with the 
speed of lightning. Scarcely an instant elapses before 
his prey is at his feet. It has been struck with 
unerring aim in the critical part, and drops on the 
instant. Very similar in the spiritual world is the force 
of what is called Ejaculatory Prayer. The Christian 
catches suddenly a glimpse of some blessing, deliver¬ 
ance, relief, a longing after which is induced by the cir¬ 
cumstances into which he is thrown. Presently it shall 
be his. As the archer first draws the bow in towards 
himself, so the Christian retires, by a momentary act of 
recollection, into his own mind, and there realizes the 
Presence of God. Then he launches one short, fervent 
petition into the ear of that Awful Presence, throwing 
his whole soul into the request. And, lo, it is done! 
The blessing descends, prosecuted, overtaken, pierced, 
fetched down from the vault of Heaven by the winged 
arrow of Prayer. Ho you require Scriptural proof that 
such immediate answers are occasionally vouchsafed, 
even as regards mere earthly blessings, to “ the effectual 
fervent prayer of a righteous man ? ” The proof is ready 
to our hand. Nehemiah, the cup-bearer, stood with a 
sad countenance before Artaxerxes the king. The king 


146 On Self-Recollectedness [part 

seemed offended by his sadness, unexplained as it was 
by any cause with which the king could sympathize. 
Nehemiah knew what Solomon had written long ago, 
that “ the king’s wrath is as the roaring of a lion,”—■ 
that to offend an oriental despot is all one with having 
the scimitar suspended over one’s head, or the bow¬ 
string slung around one’s neck. So “ he was very sore 
afraid.” The king asked him expressly what would 
content him. This made the case worse, for Nehemiah 
had a large request to make, which might seem to the 
king extravagant and presumptuous. The cup-bearer 
was in a great strait. What did he do P He entered 
into the closet of his heart, and shut his door, and 
prayed to his Father which was in secret. “ I prayed,” 
says he, “to the God of heaven.” To offer prayer 
under such circumstances evinces command of mind. 
Not many seconds can elapse between a question in con¬ 
versation and the answer to it; and when one feels that 
every thing is suspended on the success of the answer, 
anxiety and excitement would combine to prevent the 
offering of prayer in that brief interval. But Nehemiah 
had disciplined his mind to watch and pray, and he 
made the most of the interval, such as it was. It is 
hardly conceivable that he can have said more mentally 
than “ Lord, help me according to my needbut then 
he said it with such a fervour of heart, and such an 
entire faith that God would help him, that it was as 
successful as if he had spent a whole night in prayer. 
He candidly explained his wishes, in answer to the king ; 
and down came the blessing immediately. The king’s 
cloudy brow cleared all of a sudden, like a storm in an 
April day. He took the request very graciously, and 
the all-important crisis for Nehemiah, and for the city 
of his fathers, passed off well. “ So it pleased the king 
to send me.” One short act of the mind, one strong 
shaft of Prayer, had won the restoration of the Holy 
City, the joy of the whole earth. 

But Ejaculatory Prayer is to be used not simply in 
difficulties, and when our affairs are in a critical pos¬ 
ture, though such circumstances most especially call 


Ii.] and Ejaculatory Prayer. 147 

for it, but from time to time, all along the course of the 
day. But here some difficulty will be felt by those who 
strive to adopt the practice. 

When the mind is under the pressure of anxiety or 
alarm, then, of course, there is a ready supply of 
materials for our petitions, and the only difficulty is the 
attainment of sufficient presence of mind to offer them. 
The compilers of our Liturgy, as feeling, I suppose, 
that in extraordinary emergencies this presence of mind 
soon deserts ordinary men, and that in such a case 
forms might steady the mind, and help it forward in 
the direction in which it wished to travel, have supplied 
in the “ Forms of Prayer to be used at Sea,” certain 
ejaculations for individuals, under the circumstances of 
a sea-fight or a storm, which, like all other parts of the 
Liturgy, are simple and appropriate, and which should 
be mentioned here, because they form our Church’s 
testimony to the value and importance of Ejaculatory 
Prayer; but in common and uneventful life the mind will 
often experience a want of topics for this sort of prayer, 
and without a store of such topics it will be barren, and 
feel no spontaneity or freedom in the exercise. A passage 
of Scripture, selected from our morning’s reading, or 
some one event in the history of Our Lord, particularly 
in the history of His passion, may often prove serviceable 
in supplying this need. On turning over at leisure 
moments the incident or the passage in our minds, the 
fire will kindle, and we shall speak, if not with our 
tongues, yet with our hearts, to God. One great 
master of devotion recommends us, after our morning 
meditation, to select some one thought which has most 
pleased and interested us, and to carry it away with us 
for our spiritual refreshment in the intervals of business ; 
“ as a man,” he says, “ does not quit a pleasant garden, 
until he has gathered a nosegay, with the scent of 
which he may refresh himself during the day.” It 
should be added that the great repertory for ejacu¬ 
lations, to which every servant of God has resorted for 
ages, sure to find something there congenial to his 
wants, and coming home with peculiar power to his 
L 2 


148 On Self-Recollectedness [part 

heart, is the Psalter, or Book of Psalms. Those who 
are ambitious of leading the devout life should have a 
large portion of the Psalms at the disposal of their 
memory. 

It may be asked, in conclusion, whether, if constant 
mental Prayer be faithfully maintained, stated Prayer 
might not be altogether dispensed with. Looking at 
our great Exemplar, we answer somewhat positively, 
No. Our Blessed Lord’s human soul breathed the 
atmosphere of habitual Prayer. He prayed without 
ceasing, in the length and breadth of that precept. Yet 
did He not dispense with stated seasons of Prayer. 
Dispense with them! He continued one whole night in 
prayer to God. Though His human heart was with 
God through all the busiest day, yet at the close of 
that day, when He had dismissed the multitudes, He 
retired to the mountain-summit to engage in solitary 
stated prayer, afar from the hum of men and the 
turmoils of the earth. What does such an example 
prove, but that we may not exonerate ourselves from 
direct acts of worship, on the plea that both mind and 
heart have been seeking God all day long ? We have 
said, indeed, and say again, that Prayer is the act of 
spiritual respiration ;—that true Prayer can no more be 
limited to certain hours, than respiration can. Yet 
even the image itself does not warrant us in thinking 
lightly of the virtue of stated Prayer. It is true, 
indeed, that life can be supported even in the populous 
market, in the crowded street, nay, in the worst ven¬ 
tilated alleys, so long as respiration continues ; but 
what a source of health and strength would the poor 
overwrought artisan find, if he could resort now and 
then to the transparent air of the open country, un¬ 
defiled by smoke, to the purple-heathered down, where 
sweet gales fan the cheek, or to the margin of the 
ocean, over whose surface careers the invigorating 
wind! In spots like these we not only breathe, but 
breathe easily, freely, and spontaneously ; the mere 
process of animal life is a delight to us, and with every 
breath we drink in health. Such is the effect of an 


it. J and Ejaculatory Prayer. 149 

hour of stated Prayer after a day busily, yet devoutly 
spent. That hour wonderfully recruits the energies of 
the soul which human infirmity has caused to flag ; and 
if we cannot say with truth, that such an hour is abso¬ 
lutely necessary to spiritual existence , yet we can say 
that it is absolutely necessary to spiritual health and 
well-being. 

In concluding the second part of our Thoughts on 
Personal Religion, which has been occupied with the 
devotional exercises of the Christian, we venture to ex¬ 
press the hope that there has been a real endeavour on 
the part of some at least of our readers to turn these 
counsels into practice. We set out with the observa¬ 
tion that modern preaching addresses itself almost ex¬ 
clusively to stimulate the conscience, and overlooks the 
humbler but equally necessary work of guiding it,—so 
that the quiet edification of well-disposed Christians, 
the bringing them on to the measure of the stature of 
the fulness of Christ, is often sacrificed to the conver¬ 
sion of evil livers. In these pages we have been 
attempting (in a humble way) a movement in the 
opposite direction. It is plain, however, that the 
movement must fail, unless the readers co-operate with 
the writer, not so much by passively submitting them¬ 
selves to impressions, as by active concurrence with 
his advice. It has been our purpose, and we hope we 
have made it apparent that it is our purpose, not so 
much to give thoughts which may arouse, as to make 
recommendations which may he tried. My reader, 
have you tried them ? And if so, are you already, it 
may be, dispirited by a sense of failure ? Take courage, 
in the name of Jesus Christ, and once again assault the 
great task of spirituality of mind. Was any solid and 
grand attainment ever yet made without repeated 
failures ? Did ever any one climb to the pinnacle of 
human ambition without repeated checks, and hin¬ 
drances, and disappointments, and manifold changes of 
worldly tactics ? And is it to be imagined that a man 
can climb the Jacob’s ladder of sanctity, whereupon 
angels are continually passing one another on Divine 


150 On Self-Becollectedness , $•<?. [part ii. 

errands, adding “ to his faith virtue, and to virtue 
knowledge, and to knowledge temperance, and to tem¬ 
perance patience, and to patience godliness, and to god¬ 
liness brotherly kindness, and to brotherly kindness 
charity,” without a resolute energy of will, and a 
buoyancy of spirit which is determined to succeed? 
For what other purpose was the Saviour’s Blood shed, 
and the Saviour’s Grace poured forth, but to create 
such an energy? Forward, then, warriors of the 
Cross, in the courage which is ministered by that 
Blood and that Grace. Where the will is stedfast, and 
the heart is whole with God, ground is gained uncon¬ 
sciously to ourselves. This one thing do, “ forgetting 
those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto 
those things which are before, press toward the mark 
for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.” 
And be your motto that of Gideon’s wearied but un¬ 
daunted troop,—“ Faint, yet pursuing.” 


PART III. 


THE PRACTICAL LIFE. 


CHAPTER I. 

WHAT HOLDS US BACK. 

se Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling. 
For it is God which worketh in you both to will and 
to do of His good pleasure .”— Phil. ii. 12, 13. 

The present little Treatise, upon the third part of 
which we are now about to enter, is occupied with 
giving certain practical directions to those who, not 
content with passively receiving religious impressions, 
desire to grow in grace and in the knowledge of our 
Lord and {Saviour Jesus Christ. We are making an 
extended comment upon that exhortation of St. Peter : 
“ And beside this,” (beside that purifying faith in 
God’s “ exceeding great and precious promises,” which 
lies at the root of all true religion,) “ giving all dili¬ 
gence, add to your faith virtue; and to virtue know¬ 
ledge ; and to knowledge temperance ; and to temper¬ 
ance patience; and to patience godliness; and to 
godliness brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kind¬ 
ness charity.” 

Anxious for the success of what is being said, and 
knowing that this success is entirely of a practical and 
experimental character, we feel disposed at intervals 
to turn round to our readers, and ask of them how 
they are progressing ? And if the answer should be, 



152 


What holds us back. [part 

as in some cases doubtless it will be, that they are 
making no sensible progress at all, and that their efforts 
in the pursuit of holiness are continually baffled, and 
meet with disappointment, we wish to take that con¬ 
fession as a symptom,—if the trial has had a fair space 
of time allotted to it,—that something is wrong with 
them, and to stop on our journey, and ask what that 
wrong thing is. 

Let this Chapter then be devoted to the inquiry, 
What is it which often holds back those, who appear 
to be earnest in “working out their own salvation?” 
And may God throw upon our minds that inward light 
which alone can expose the error to our consciences, 
and bring us into the path of truth. 

Now the celebrated passage to the Philippians, to 
which I have just referred, contains in itself the detec¬ 
tion and exposure of the error. “ Work out your own 
salvation,” writes the Apostle, “ with fear and trem¬ 
bling;” intimating most assuredly, whatever Calvin 
may say to the contrary, that the human will has a 
certain part to play in the matter of salvation, and 
that it must be played with all earnestness, yea, even 
with an agonizing earnestness, “ with fear and trem¬ 
bling;” but then he immediately subjoins, “for it is 
God that worketh in you,” intimating most assuredly, 
whatever Arminius may say to the contrary, that we 
cannot ourselves work in ourselves, or produce from 
ourselves, a single one of the dispositions that consti¬ 
tute holiness,—that the origin, progress, and maturity 
of those dispositions is all of free grace, just as entirely 
as the forgiveness of sins is. It is, then, on this ground 
we will look for our error, if so be we may find it. It 
is more than likely, if we are hanging back in the 
Christian course, either that we are not surrendering 
our wills honestly and unreservedly to God, to be and 
to do as He bids us, and virtually saying, “ I will not 
work at all, because it is God that worketh in me ;” 
or, secondly, that, from a mistake as to the nature 
of sanctification, we are really looking to our own 
miserable efforts to sanctify us—putting a round of 



153 


iit.] What holds us hack. 

ordinances, and duties, and performances, into the place 
of the Lord Jesus, and virtually saying, “ It is I who 
work in myself, both to will and to do of God’s good 
pleasure.” 

By way of illustrating these contrary errors more 
clearly, let us imagine the case of a patient placed under 
a physician of most eminent skill, who has closely 
studied similar cases, and heretofore infallibly restored 
them by his treatment,—making no progress. Re¬ 
covery seems to be on the whole as far off as when he 
first consulted the physician ; and even if one day 
there seems to be a little improvement, the next day 
the hopes, to which that improvement gave rise, are 
thrown back ; if symptoms are somewhat repressed, 
there is every reason to believe that the malady is still 
there. Now, supposing the physician’s skill to be 
abundantly competent to a radical cure, it is evident 
that the non-recovery must spring from the patient’s 
never having fairly surrendered himself into the 
physician’s hands. And this want of an entire sur¬ 
render may take one of two forms. Either the patient 
may not implicitly follow the physician’s orders ; or, 
not having a full trust in him, and being persuaded of 
the efficacy of certain other systems of medicine, he 
may be giving those systems a trial side by side with 
the course which physicians prescribe, and thereby 
nullifying the efficacy of that course. The not follow¬ 
ing the physician’s prescriptions, or the following his 
own theories as well, both may equally defeat his 
recovery. 

Another illustration, which, from the nature of it, 
is even clearer still.—What are the conditions, which 
alone could frustrate the progress upon a river of a 
strong man and an expert rower, placed in a good and 
swift boat, and furnished with oars? Such an one 
might either not use the oars at all, or use only one of 
them. And the result in each case would be practically 
much the same. In both cases the boat would drift 
with the stream; and the only difference would be, 
that, when one oar was vigorously applied, the boat, in 


154 What holds us hack. [part 

addition to drifting, would move round and round in a 
circle, and might perhaps for a while mock the rower 
by the semblance of progress. In spiritual things 
there are those who are utterly careless and godless— 
dead alike to the claims of Religion, and to its hopes. 
These are they who, launched upon the stream of life, 
quietly drift down it, giving no thought to the life 
which is to come after, and seeking only to gather the 
few perishable flowers which grow upon the brink. 
And, among persons of more serious mind, there are 
those, who are willing indeed that Christ should do all 
for them, but have never surrendered themselves to 
Him to be and do all that He requires. And there are 
those, on the other hand, who have surrendered the 
will to Christ, and are making efforts to obey Him; 
but because they perceive not this simple truth, that 
they cannot sanctify themselves,—that sanctification, 
from first to last, like justification, must be wrought 
for us by Him,—are constantly met by failures and 
disappointments, which a simple trust in Him to do all 
for them can alone remedy. Both these last are they 
who are rowing with one oar, moving indeed, but 
moving in a circle, and coming round always to the 
same point from which they started,—deluding them¬ 
selves for a while, by the very fact of their motion, 
with the idea that they are progressing, and often 
bitterly complaining, as soon as they are undeceived, 
that they are making no way. And finally there are 
those who are equally well contented to give all to 
Christ which they have to give, (that is, their will,) 
and to take all from Him which He has to give, 
sanctification, and wisdom, as well as righteousness, 
—who in one and the same act of faith have re¬ 
nounced both self-will and self-trust. These are they 
who are rowing with two oars, and so realizing a 
true progress towards that haven where they would be. 
Show me a man who is both giving to Christ all he 
has to give, that is, his will, and at the same 
time taking from Christ all Christ has to give, 
which is, a perfect salvation from sin’s guilt, power, 


What holds us hacTc. 


155 


hi.] 

and consequences; or, as the Apostle expresses it, 
“ wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and 
redemption;” and I will show you a man who is 
growing in grace, and advancing daily in meetness for 
the inheritance of the saints in light. And if we find 
ourselves not thus growing and advancing, and yet are 
certainly well-disposed persons of some seriousness of 
mind, it is, no doubt, that we are endeavouring to push 
the boat forward with only one of the oars, to reach 
that holiness without which no man shall see the Lord, 
with trust in Christ alone, or with self-surrender alone. 
Apply the other oar simultaneously, and the hark shall 
at once begin to cleave the water, as an arrow cleaves 
the air, straightforward. 

What I have said reduces itself to two very simple 
axiomatic positions, practically, experimentally, and 
really consistent with one another, even if in this life 
we can never see their precise speculative adjust¬ 
ment. 

1. We must give ourselves up to God, to be 
sanctified. 

2. We can by no possibility,—by no efforts, strivings, 
prayers, penances, whatever,—sanctify ourselves. 

1. We must give ourselves up to God, to he sane - 
tified. Have we ever done this? Have we done it 
honestly, and without reserving a single corner of the 
heart ? or are we keeping back part of the price of the 
land, like Ananias and Sapphira, and bringing only a 
certain part, and laying it down at the feet of our 
Heavenly Master, as if it were the whole ? Ah ! He 
sees through all disguises; and His eyes, which are as 
a flame of fire, immediately detect the insincerity of 
our souls. And the awful punishment will be, that 
He will not take us under His efficacious treatment, 
unless we submit ourselves to Him unreservedly ; and 
unless the Divine Physician treats us for sin, we shall 
never recover of sin; and unless we recover of sin, 
unless the moral malady be stanched in us by the 
Blood and Grace of Christ,—salvation is for us out of 
the question. Indeed, salvation is mainly and essen- 


156 What holds us lacJc, [pakt 

tially from sin,—from sin itself in its guilt and power, 
—and only accidentally from sin’s consequences. 

Ah, how many are there who content themselves 
with lop-sided faith—trust without surrender! But 
the truth is, that a lop-sided faith is no faith at all. 
The disposition called faith embraces God’s commands 
with obedience, as well as His promises with trust. 
Abraham is the great Scriptural pattern of faith ; and 
Abraham’s faith appears no less in his obeying than in 
his believing God. Where God’s will takes the form 
of a precept, Abraham does it without a moment’s 
hesitation; where it takes the form of a promise, he 
rests assured that there will be a fulfilment. God bids 
him leave his country and his kindred ; he leaves them. 
God bids him slay his son ; he would have slain his 
son, had not God interposed. God tells him that his 
seed should be as the stars of heaven, when not only 
had he no child, but when it was contrary to the course 
of nature that he should be blest with offspring; and 
Abraham rests assured that it will be as God says. 
God tells him that in Isaac shall his seed be called, and 
Abraham believes it, even when called to offer up Isaac, 
accounting (oh! grand reach of faith, under that very 
twilight dispensation!) that God was able to raise him 
up even from the dead. That is the whole-heartedness 
both towards precept and promise, which God so much 
approves, and which is called Faith. Is there, then, 
aught which keeps us from an unreserved putting 
ourselves at Christ’s disposal ? Is it the fear of ridicule 
or contempt from an irreligious circle? the fear of 
being accounted over-strict, methodistical, puritanical, 
or what not ? Is the love of any sin so strong in us 
that we cannot fairly put ourselves in Christ’s hands 
for treatment, saying, “Here am I, Lord, to do as 
regards this sin whatsoever by Thy Spirit in my 
conscience Thou shalt suggest?” Is the surrender of 
our substance a hard saying to us, as to the rich young 
man in the Gospel ? While we are willing to do many 
things for Christ, and hear sermons gladly, are we 
strongly disinclined to relinquish our grasp upon that 


157 


III.] What holds ns bade. 

proportion of our income, to which an enlightened 
conscience tells us that Christ has a fair claim ? Is 
indolence mingled with cowardice an obstacle to effort, 
as of old in the wilderness, when the people cried, 
“ The cities are great, and walled up to heaven; and, 
moreover, we have seen the sons of the Anakims 
there?” Are we willing to have religious impressions 
made upon us, but not willing to gird up our loins for 
an earnest wrestling-match with the powers of dark¬ 
ness, not willing to apply our shoulders to the wheel 
and moye it out of the old cart-rut of bad habits ? 
Probe your consciences with these and similar ques¬ 
tions. To surrender himself from the very ground of 
his heart to sanctification, is all that man can do in the 
matter. Have you ever done it ? 

2ndly, We entreat you to take with you through 
this whole treatise, this other axiomatic and funda¬ 
mental truth, that man can by no possibility sanctify 
himself. 

We devoted a Chapter to this subject (Chap. III. 
Part I.) in the Introductory Part of this work; but it 
is of such transcendent importance, and, in the active 
pursuit of Holiness, so liable to be dropped out of mind, 
that the reader must excuse us, if we here briefly re¬ 
capitulate the argument of that Chapter. It was there 
observed that men recognize, indeed, the Atonement as 
being exclusively Christ’s work, and the Forgiveness 
of sins as His procuring and His free gift; but they 
entertain a notion that, after forgiveness, they are to 
go and work out sanctification for themselves inde¬ 
pendently of Christ’s working in them, and, in the 
ground of their heart, look to be sanctified by their 
prayers, and their communions, and their watchfulness, 
and their self-discipline, and their self-denials, and their 
cultivation of good habits, which is just as great an 
error as looking to be justified by these things. In 
short they have never understood the force of those 
words; “Christ Jesus of God is made unto us not 
righteousness only, but sanctification.” We are justi¬ 
fied or forgiven simply by throwing ourselves upon 


158 What holds us hack. [part 

Christ for forgiveness, renouncing all merit in ourselves, 
and looking to His Agony and Bloody Sweat, His 
Cross and Passion. And in exactly the same way we 
are sanctified by simple dependence upon Christ to 
work in us by the Spirit every grace we need, by 
abandoning the treatment of ourselves for sin, and 
looking to the good Physician out of His fulness to 
supply such remedies and such virtues as will effec¬ 
tually make us whole. It is most true indeed that 
heartfelt surrender of our wills to the will of God 
involves human effort in every shape which effort can 
Scripturally take; but it is equally true that human 
effort is no Saviour, and true also that the Saviour will 
not give to it, or have us give to it, that honour which 
is exclusively His. Blessed things are Prayer, and 
Sacraments, and watchfulness, and rules of life, and 
self-discipline, and self-denial, when they occupy their 
right place in the spiritual system, as means, channels, 
and instruments ; but if they be unduly magnified, so 
as to cover the whole field of view; if we for a moment 
allow our minds to regard them as sources of Grace, 
and trust to them to work in us sanctity, we shall be 
as utterly disappointed in them, as the poor woman 
who had the issue of blood was with the many 
physicians, from whom she had suffered many things, 
but never brought away a cure. Mark me, reader, our 
sanctification is in Christ, not independent of Him, and 
therefore not to be had independently. Touch His 
sacred Person in simple faith that in Him doth all 
fulness dwell,—fulness of light and love, of holy 
tempers, holy impulses, and of all the fruits of the 
Spirit,—and the virtue which is in Him shall instantly 
begin to flow, through the channel which faith has 
opened, into your soul. This is His own teaching, not 
ours, “Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch 
cannot bear fruit of itself, except it abide in the vine; 
no more can ye, except ye abide in Me. I am the vine, 
ye are the branches: he that abideth in Me, and I in 
him, the same bringeth forth much fruit: for without 
Me” (separated from Me) “ye can do nothing.” “ Yq 


m] What holds us laclc. 159 

can do nothing,”—not advance a step in love, joy, or 
peace, or in any grace which qualifies for Heaven. 
The righteousness of sanctification is technically said 
by divines to be inherent in us; and the term is useful, 
as serving to draw a distinction between this and the 
righteousness of justification, which is imputed, and 
outside of us,—laid to our account, without being in 
any sense ours; but we must not so understand the 
phrase as if righteousness were inherent in us inde¬ 
pendently or apart from Christ. The sap circulates 
through the living branch of the vine, but not inde¬ 
pendently or apart from the root and stock of the tree. 
Separated from the tree, the branch has no life what¬ 
ever, and is unable to put forth a single bud or blossom. 
The sap in the branch is not from or of the branch, it 
is only derivative,—drawn from the living energies of 
the root and stem. And so the Christian’s holiness; 
it is never held independently, but derived from the 
fountain-head of holiness, and that fountain-head is 
Christ. And what we have to do is to keep open 
continually the communication between Christ and the 
soul, by repeated exercises of the same simple faith (or 
trust) in Him, which at first was the instrument of 
our justification. We stretched forth the hand of 
faith, and received out of Christ the forgiveness which 
He purchased for us; we must stretch it forth again, 
and again, and again, to receive that meetness for 
glory which He gradually imparts. Without holding 
this fundamental truth before our eyes, without the 
most entire trust in Christ to work in us every grace 
of the Christian character, and the utter renunciation 
of trust in ourselves, all our efforts in the pursuit of 
holiness will be only an unblessed toiling and moiling, 
—so much work, and worry, and fruitless striving, 
without any appreciable result. Has your error lain 
in this quarter? It is so with many really devoted 
people, who have a character for knowledge in the 
things of God. Many are the followers after holiness, 
the secret of whose failure is all wrapped up in those few 
words of the Apostle, “Not holding fast the Head,” 


What holds us baclc. 


ICO 


[part 


and who need to be taken back to the first rudiments 
of religious knowledge, and told by the Catechist, “ My 
good child, know this, that thou art not able to do these 
things of thyself nor to walk in the commandments of 
God, and to serve Him, without His special grace” 


We cannot bring this Chapter to a close without 
pointing to the confirmation which the doctrine of it 
derives from the Baptismal Covenant. 

Observe, then, that Baptism is a covenant, in which 
there are two contracting parties, God and the Cate¬ 
chumen, both pledging themselves to certain conditions, 
and both having a certain part of their own to perform. 
This is very forcibly brought out by our Formularies, 
both for the Baptism of Infants, and of Adults. In 
the first place, on the part of the Catechumen, there is 
self-dedication, implying complete surrender of the will, 
nay, of the man’s whole self to God. He renounces 
(i. e. declares war against) all sin, from whatsoever 
avenue it may make its assault; he avows implicit 
belief, of all God says, and he puts himself entirely at 
God’s bidding, to “ keep His holy will and command¬ 
ments, and walk in the same all the days of his life.” 
It is very important to remark, that it is not simply 
belief, but also a preparedness of the will , which he, if 
an adult, in his own person, if an infant, by his sureties, 
is required to profess. The terms are by no means to 
be construed as a promise that he will never sin, 
which would be a rash and unwarrantable vow indeed; 
but are exactly equivalent to an act of self-surrender, 
and might scripturally be represented thus: “ I present 
my body (this body, on which the seal of Holy Baptism 
is now to be impressed) a living sacrifice, holy, accept¬ 
able to God, which is my reasonable service.” It is 
the Christian offering himself as a victim at God’s 
altar, “ Lo, I come to do Thy will, 0 God!” 

But is that the whole of Baptism ? By no means, 
nor even the chief part of it. The victim must not 
only be presented, but fire must fall from Heaven upon 
it: there is God’s part as well as man’s part to be 


in.] What holds us lacJc. 161 

considered. There is a gift to be bestowed, as well as 
a vow to be made, and the candidate himself cannot 
possibly do God’s part; it must be done for him, and 
upon him. No man ever heard of a person’s baptizing 
himself; that would be indeed an absurd impossibility: 
he may dedicate himself to God by an act of self¬ 
surrender, which some suppose to be the whole of 
Baptism, but to be born of water and of the Spirit, “ to 
be received into Christ’s holy Church, and be made a 
lively member of the same,” this is far above—out of his 
reach. The Church of his day, or rather Christ acting 
through the Church, confers upon him Baptism, with 
its grace and its gift, howsoever that gift may be de¬ 
fined. If he is an infant at the time of receiving it, as 
we all were, and Baptism is to be of the smallest avail 
to him ultimately, he must realize his Baptism experi¬ 
mentally, and that as to both parts of the contract: he 
must now by his own act and deed surrender himself 
utterly and unreservedly to God, which is the teaching 
of Confirmation, although thousands of confirmed per¬ 
sons have never done it; and for his sanctification, his 
growth in grace, his spiritual fruitfulness, his interior 
qualifications for glory, he must look to Christ and 
Christ alone, in whom by the Father’s appointment 
“ all fulness dwells,” using diligently the means, of 
course, because Christ enjoins them, but not putting 
the means in Christ’s place. If he will not dedicate 
himself, the Lord will not send down the fiery Baptism 
of the Holy Ghost upon him: if he will dedicate him¬ 
self, and will expect from the act of dedication the gift 
of the Holy Ghost, he will find himself bitterly disap¬ 
pointed ; but if he will both dedicate himself, and at 
the same time look to Christ’s fulness for the pro¬ 
gressive work of sanctification, as well as for the com¬ 
pleted work of justification, then of Christ’s fulness 
shall that man receive, and “ grace for grace.” Hold¬ 
ing fast the Head, he shall have nourishment minis¬ 
tered through the joints and bands of the appointed 
means, and increase with the increase of God. 

M 


162 


Do all for God. 


[part 


CHAPTER IT. 

DO ALL FOR GOD. 

“ And loliatsoever ye do, do it heartily , as to the Lord , 
and not unto men.” — Col. iii. 23. 

The practical life of the Christian, upon the considera¬ 
tion of which we enter in this Chapter, comprehends 
three distinct elements, on each of which distinct re¬ 
commendations are needed, working, fighting, and suf¬ 
fering. We have to do the will of God in our business; 
this is working. We have to oppose our bosom sin 
and to resist temptation ; this is fighting. We have, 
finally, to endure with cheerfulness and submission 
whatever cross the Lord Jesus pleases to lay upon us ; 
this is suffering. And to be right in the practical de¬ 
partment of the Christian life is summed up in these 
three things, to work devoutly, to fight manfully, and 
to suffer patiently. 

Our present subject is, then, how we may work 
devoutly. 

When we remember that our destiny, as immortal 
beings, is to live with Our Lord, and with glorified 
saints, and holy angels for ever; and that, in con¬ 
sequence, any work which does not fit us for this 
society must be a great impertinence, and counteract 
the main end of our existence, it is at first sight a very 
alarming and distressing thought that the great bulk 
of the things which most men do daily, are of the 
earth, earthy. For example, how many pursuits and 
professions, in a commercial country like this, have 
reference to money,—that is to say, substituting the 
Scripture phraseology for our common parlance, to 
“ the gold which perisheth ” and to the “ Mammon of 
unrighteousness.” But is it not true of all pursuits, 
regular and irregular, with the exception only of 
devotion, that they are of the earth, earthy ? Does it 
not hold good even of the pastoral work, so far as that 


1G3 


in.] Do all for God. 

work has reference to the sin and ignorance which is in 
fallen man ? Must not every existing pursuit be in¬ 
compatible with the heavenly state, for this simple 
reason, that every one of them has reference to an im¬ 
perfect state of things, largely alloyed with sin, igno¬ 
rance, and sorrow ? All professions and trades are in 
fact remedial, destined to supply the defects of the 
existing order; and therefore, when that existing order 
is no more, and when the order which supersedes it 
proves to have no defects whatever, and excludes all 
sin, all ignorance, and all sorrow,—the various occupa¬ 
tions of this life must necessarily come to an end, must 
die a natural death. And is there not something which 
seems inappropriate, to say the least of it, in the cir¬ 
cumstance that one, who is called by Baptism to the 
kingdom and glory of Almighty God, should, during 
his short span of threescore years and ten, he either 
preparing for, or engaged in, work which has no 
reference to or bearing upon his Eternity, and which 
will be swept away for ever, like so much litter, when 
the Kingdom of Christ is finally and for ever set up ? 

This inconsistency between worldly pursuits and a 
heavenly calling has been deeply felt at all times by 
the human mind. 

It was just this feeling which, among other deep- 
seated instincts of our nature, gave rise to Monasticism. 
In their speculations on the eternal future, men as¬ 
sumed (what certainly we have no right to assume, and 
what probably is false, judging from what we hear of 
the angels) that there will be in the heavenly state no 
occupation save that of Prayer and Praise. Then, 
knowing from God’s Word that the life of Heaven 
ought to be begun, as indeed it ought, upon earth, 
they concluded that the religious life upon earth (the 
conventual life was always called “ religious ”) consisted 
in a constant round of religious services, and directly 
spiritual employments. Hymns, and prayers, and good 
reading, and deep meditation were to be the business 
of the day; and all else, if any thing else were at¬ 
tempted, (as it often was in the way of almsgiving, and 
M 2 


1G4 Do alt for God. [part 

writing or illuminating manuscripts,) was to be a by- 
work. Let us not rail at their mistake. It is by no 
means so certain that we stand clear of it ourselves. 
Have we never thrown out words on the same false 
assumption, that a secular pursuit is an obstacle to 
a heavenly mind ? What remark is more commonly 
heard in conversation, than that such a young man, 
being more seriously disposed than his brothers, is the 
one pointed out for the Church,—meaning the Mi¬ 
nistry ? And what does such a remark imply in the 
mind of the person making it, but this very feeling, 
that nothing but a sacred occupation sits suitably on a 
person who contemplates with seriousness the end for 
which he was created ? And we have heard the feeling 
take more foolish and unguarded shapes than this. We 
have heard well-meant addresses at Missionary meet¬ 
ings, which,—from the undoubtedly true position that 
the work of a Missionary, as being nearest to that of 
an Apostle, is the highest upon earth,—really almost 
infer, or, at all events, leave upon the minds of the 
hearers the impression, that every one should abandon 
his present calling, and go forth to preach the Kingdom 
of God in the dark places of the earth. 

As the pushing a false theory to its extreme point 
is one way of exhibiting its fallacy, let us for a moment 
suppose it to be God’s will that all Christians should 
have a directly spiritual pursuit. The system of society 
must in that case be brought to a dead lock ; for who 
knows not that the system is founded upon division of 
labour; and upon the very simple principle that one 
man shall produce what his neighbour wants, and take 
in exchange what his neighbour produces ? The fair 
fabric of civilization is all built upon this principle, as 
its fundamental law. Take away the variety of voca¬ 
tions, reduce all callings to those of the monk, the 
priest, or the missionary, and you undermine civiliza¬ 
tion, or, in other words, society lapses again into 
barbarism. And this assuredly cannot be the will of 
Him, who has implanted in the human mind those 
instincts which develope themselves in civilization. 


Hi.] Do all for God. 165 

But if this cannot be the will of God, if common 
sense, without calling in the aid of Scripture, repu¬ 
diates such an hypothesis, then it must be His will 
(for there is no alternative) that different men should 
follow different pursuits, according to the station in 
which they are born, the gifts they possess, the cir¬ 
cumstances in which they find themselves. Bring 
it down to individual cases, and the truth still holds. 
It is still the will of God that this man should ply 
a humble craft; that this other should have the 
duties entailed by broad acres and large property; 
that a third should go to the desk, and sit behind a 
counter all his days; that a fourth should give his time 
to the restoration of sick patients; that a fifth should 
fight the battles of his country. Now if this is God’s 
will in each individual case, no good, but the greatest 
harm, would ensue from an individual’s infringing 
that will; from his thrusting himself out of his own 
vocation into one which seems to be higher and more 
dignified. Each man’s wisdom and happiness must 
consist in doing, as well as his faculties will admit, the 
work which God sets him. So thought and so wrote 
(both thinking and writing by immediate Inspiration) 
the great Apostle of the Gentiles. He did not counsel 
his converts to join himself and St. Barnabas in their 
missionary tours; but while reminding them ever and 
anon that the great system of Society would ere long, 
run down and come to an end,—ringing ever and anon 
the great funeral knell of the world, “ the fashion of this 
world passeth away,”—he told them distinctly and 
emphatically that so long as the system still worked 
on, each one was to retain his position in it. “ Let 
every man abide in the same calling, wherein he was 
called.” “ Brethren, let every man, wherein he is 
called, therein abide with God.” 

Ah ! “ with God.” Those words wrap up the secret 
of which we are in search, the secret by which we may 
do God service in our daily business, and convert the 
most secular occupation, so long as it be an innocent 
one, into fine gold of the altar. 


^66 Do all for God. [part 

How then may we abide with God in the work of 
our calling ? The answer (or rather that portion of it, 
for which alone we can find space in this Chapter) is, 
by throwing into the work an holy and pure intention. 

It is clear that intention is to our actions what the 
soul is to the body ; and that, just as it is the soul and 
not the body which makes us moral agents, so it is the 
motive or intention, with which a thing is done, which 
gives to the action a moral character. To kill a man 
in wrath, of malice prepense, is murder; hut to kill 
him accidentally by an action which we could not 
possibly foresee would do him harm, and which we 
meant to benefit him (as where one might administer 
poison to his friend by mistake for medicine), is so far 
from being murder, that it is no sin at all. Again, a 
good and holy work, such as Prayer, becomes hypocrisy, 
if done in a false Pharisaical spirit, to have praise of 
men. 

This point then being admitted,—that it is the in¬ 
tention which constitutes an action good or bad,—we 
proceed to remark that the great bulk of work done in 
this busy bustling life is not done with any intention 
whatever of complying with the Will, or furthering the 
Service of Almighty God. The many who run to and 
fro from morning to evening in the work of their calling 
think nothing of subserving His designs, and are even 
unconscious, in many cases, of the place which they 
hold in His system. 

The intention of some persons in their work is simply 
to gain a livelihood by it. To render this livelihood 
more abundant and more independent, they rise up 
early, take rest late, and eat the bread of carefulness. 
A perfectly innocent motive ; nay, in a merely moral 
and social point of view, a commendable one, hut not a 
spiritual motive, such as glorifies the work and redeems 
it from earthliness. 

Others, in a higher class of life, labour unremittingly 
with the view of winning eminence in their particular 
pursuit or profession. The effects of work done in this 
spirit, if it does not meet with the success which it 


in.] Do all for God. 167 

seeks, are very sad to witness. That elasticity of mind 
which is the spring and nerve of duty, is gone from a 
disappointed man. He is a stranger to the bright 
cheerfulness of mind which characterizes the Christian, 
who knows that no one ever sought to please our 
Heavenly Master without succeeding and being over- 
abundantly recompensed. 

Others work merely from what is called energy of 
mind. They would be miserable if idle; and accord¬ 
ingly, wherever they are, they create occupations for 
themselves, if there are none to which they seem es¬ 
pecially called. Indeed, to every one among us work is 
in a greater or less degree a necessity of nature. But 
that activity which results from a mere natural instinct 
has, of course, nothing of a spiritual character. Perhaps 
Pascal is right, though his thoughts on the subject are 
a little sombre and overstrained, when he tells us that 
this kind of activity is only a relief from the contem¬ 
plation of self, which we are afraid to be alone with, 
from an instinctive feeling of discontent with it. As a 
debtor shuns looking into his accounts, so we shun 
looking into self, and for the same reason. Self and 
the accounts are both unsatisfactory, and in frightful 
disorder. 

Again, the better class of men, in whose hearts a 
supernatural motive has not yet found place, work 
from the high and elevating motive of duty. This 
motive exalts the character to the very highest pitch 
to which a mere natural character can attain. “It is 
my work,” says the man, “ and I shall not shrink from 
it, however much of danger and hardship it may in¬ 
volve.” It is a fine mind which so speaks; perhaps 
we may admit that the owner of such a mind is “ not 
far from the kingdom of God;” but if the intention 
have no reference to God’s appointment, God’s Will 
and service, truth forbids us to say that it is a spiritual 
or supernatural mind. Cicero and Seneca might have 
worked from a sense of duty; but Cicero and Seneca 
knew nothing of the living and loving Lord, who 
appoints labourers to various parts of His vineyard, 


1GS 


Do all for God. [paet 

endows them with various talents, and rewards them 
according to their diligence in improving those talents 
God must enter the mind, before our motives can be 
supernaturalized. 

Finally, a great mass of human activity is really des-. 
titute of any intention at all, and so runs to waste 
in a spiritual point of view. Multitudes of men work 
mechanically and by the same instinct of routine which 
causes a horse to go round in a mill. They throw 
themselves into their pursuit in the morning, with 
about as much reflection and thought as the poor 
dumb animal, when he submits himself afresh to the 
harness, and thrusts his neck once again into the well- 
known collar. But man is surely made for something 
nobler than to work by mere force of habit. Look at 
him. What powerful and stormy affections, what lively 
intelligence, what strength of purpose and of moral 
choice, is latent in that human heart! God did not 
intend that creature for a piece of clockwork, to run 
down when it is wound up, without any consciousness 
of the design which it subserves. He must have meant 
man surely to act with foresight, with design, with 
purpose, with intelligence, with affections, even as He 
Himself works! 

Such, then, are the views and motives with which 
the majority pursue their vocations. And now what is 
the true motive, the supernatural motive, which lifts 
up the humblest duties into a higher atmosphere, and 
refines away their earthliness, and glorifies them P 
“ Whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and 
not unto men; knowing that of the Lord ye shall 
receive the reward of the inheritance : for ye serve the 
Lord Christ.” It will be seen by consulting the 
context, that this precept, and the corresponding one in 
the Ephesians, have a primary reference to the duties 
of slaves. Now no duties can be imagined lower in the 
social scale than those of a slave in a heathen family,— 
a position in which many members of the early 
Christian community found themselves. The duties of 
the slave were bound upon him by the most gallipg 


169 


iii-j Do all for God. 

necessity ; if he neglected or evaded them, he did so at 
the risk of the lash, the brand, and the treadmill; yet 
the Apostle intimates that even these duties may be 
ennobled and sanctified by importing into them a 
Christian intention. Let the slave look behind and 
beyond his earthly master, to the gracious and glorious 
form of the Lord Jesus, who stands in the background, 
requiring service of him. Let him yield that service 
heartily, as to the Lord, and not unto men, and it shall 
be owned, blessed, accepted, rewarded. Now we cannot 
but think that there is a deep wisdom in this particular 
arrangement of the Word of God, by which a precept 
so universal in its character as that of the consecration 
of secular duties to the Lord, is connected in the first 
instance with the business of slaves. The a fortiori 
inference is so abundantly evident that, if the humble 
drudgery of a slave admits of such a consecration, much 
more does any nobler form of human business. No 
man after this can say, “ My duties are so very common¬ 
place, and so very petty, that they cannot have a 
religious dignity and value; or so bound upon me by 
necessity that there can be no spontaneity in rendering 
them.” Your duty, whatever it be, is at least as noble 
intrinsically as that of the bond-servants of antiquity, 
whom their masters regarded merely as a species of live 
stock. And therefore, if the duties of those bond- 
servants admitted of being done heartily, as to the Lord, 
much more do yours. Then that you should strive 
so to do them, is our first practical counsel to you 
respecting your work. First, before you go forth to 
your daily task, establish your mind thoroughly in 
the truth, that all the lawful and necessary pursuits of 
the world are so many departments of God’s great 
harvest-field, in which He has called Christians to go 
forth and labour for Him. Let us regard them all as, 
at least, if nothing more, wheels of the great world- 
system, whose revolutions are bringing on the Second 
Advent and Kingdom of Christ. Then, imagining 
yourself for a moment under no worldly obligation to 
pursue your particular calling, undertake it with the 


170 


Do all for God . [part 

deliberate and conscious intention of furthering His 
Work and Will. Choose it with your whole will, as 
the path in which He would have you to follow Him, 
and the task to which He has called you. Consecrate 
it to Him by a few moments of secret prayer, imploring 
Him to take it up into the great scheme of His service, 
and to make it, all humble, weak, and sinful as it is, 
instrumental in furthering His designs. Then put your 
hand to it bravely, endeavouring to keep before the 
mind the aim of pleasing Him by diligence and zeal. 
Imagine Jesus examining your work, as He will do at 
the last day; and strive that there may be no flaw in 
it, that it may be thoroughly well executed both in its 
outer manner and inner spirit. 

At the beginning and end of every considerable 
action, renew the holy intention of the morning. 

As to the smaller duties of life,—the mint, anise, and 
cummin of God’s Worship,—there should be an honest 
attempt to bring them too under the control of the 
ruling principle. The Scripture exempts nothing from 
the compass of God’s Service:—“ Whether therefore ye 
eat or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of 
God.” “ Whatsoever ye do, in word or in deed, do all 
in the name of the Lord Jesus.” But a word or two 
of caution is here necessary for weak and scrupulous 
minds. The Scripture shows its divine perfection by 
setting up an ideal standard of duty, which was never 
yet actually reached except by the Lord Jesus Himself. 
God speaks in the Scripture; and God must require 
perfection,—cannot require any thing less or lower. 
Perfection, therefore, must be the aim of all, and this 
in small things as well as great. But eschew, as being 
particularly adverse to real progress, all little unworthy 
scrupulosities, such as would be counted absurd by 
strong common sense. If you are conscious in the 
main of an intention to serve God in all things, small 
and great, put foolish scruples and questions of casuistry 
out of court without an hearing. God will have the 
service which comes of a sound mind and a joyous 
heart; and nothing more impedes and impairs soundness 


in.] Bo all for God. 171 

of mind and joyousness of heart than petty scruples. 
The Devil is the author of scruples, both in the mind 
of the hypocrite and of the Christian. He allows them 
in the hypocrite, as the one thing having the semblance 
of religious duty, by which he compounds with him for 
laxity and licentiousness in the weightier matters of the 
law. He originates them in the Christian, as being a 
fertile source of down-heartedness, timidity, and despair. 
Now the best way to resist the Devil on all occasions is 
to turn a deaf ear to him. Let us make sure of con¬ 
secrating to God by prayer, and a good intention, the 
more considerable duties of the day. Let us strive, at 
all periods, whether of work or refreshment, to realize 
His Presence, and the great end for which we are, or 
ought to be, living. We shall find by degrees that the 
main business of the day, if done with pure intention, 
will lead the smaller duties in tow, like long-boats fol¬ 
lowing in the wake of a man-of-war. 

For the rest, let us make^a wise and holy use of the 
efficacy of Christ’s Blood and Grace. That doctrine, if 
rightly and deeply received, will give the mind a spring 
of elasticity, of indomitable cheerfulness, courage, and 
hope. Nothing which we do will for a moment bear 
the scrutiny of Almighty God as a judge. Be it so; 
but Our Lord’s Work will endure that scrutiny, and 
come triumphant out of the ordeal ; and His Work is 
by faith ours, as entirely as if we were the doers of it. 
Our own efforts after sanctity are always breaking down 
and giving way under us. True; but in Him doth all 
fulness dwell; and out of that fulness will we look to 
receive grace for grace, so that more and more visibly, 
if only our wills be true to Him, the lineaments of His 
Blessed Image may be reproduced in us by the power 
of His Spirit. 


172 


Do all in God. 


[part 


CHAPTER III. 

ON MAINTAINING THE CONSCIOUSNESS OP GOD’S PRE¬ 
SENCE IN THE WORKS OF OUR CALLING. 

“ The Lord appeared to Abram , and said unto him , 
I am the Almighty God; walk before Me , and be 
thou perfect .”— Gen. xvii. 1. 

In a certain sense we all must walk before God, 
whether in solitude or among the haunts of men. 
“ He is about our path, and about our bed, and spieth 
out all our ways.” But it is open to us to realize His 
Presence, or to dismiss it from our minds. And it is 
the first of these courses which God counsels Abraham 
to adopt when He says, “ Walk before Me, and be thou 
perfect.” The words seem to imply that the realization 
of the Divine Presence in all things is the great secret 
of perfection; that is, of course, of such perfection 
(most imperfect at best) as man can by grace attain 
unto. Animal and vegetable life both form round a 
nucleus, or centre, which is at first a mere point or 
speck undiscernible except by the microscope, but 
which contains in it the germ of the animal or plant 
which is to be formed by expansion from it. And in 
some eminent servants of God the spiritual life has all 
formed itself from this one centre, developed itself from 
this one nucleus,—the realization of the Presence of 
God. 

We are still engaged upon the question how the work 
of our calling may be done devoutly. The first part of 
the answer was given in the last Chapter: “ Do all for 
God.” The second part remains to be given: “ Do all 
in God” by habitual mindfulness of His Presence. 

It is an easy thing to see and to say that men 
should be mindful of God’s Presence while engaged in 
their daily work. But it is not so easy to see how ; 


hi.] Do all in God. 173 

with any of the higher forms of work, such advice can 
really be put in practice. The consideration of this 
point will serve to bring out in sharper relief the 
meaning of the precept. 

The counsel, then, to be mindful of God’s Presence in 
the midst of our daily secular occupations, might seem 
to be quite practicable for those who have to work 
merely with their hands. It might seem as if the 
peasant who turns up the soil with his spade, the lace- 
woman who plies her bobbins with busy finger, the boy 
set in the fields to scare the birds from the crops, could 
have no difficulty in burning the mind to the Presence 
of Almighty God, inasmuch as with them the mind has 
no other engagement. But all work which is not 
purely mechanical, (and even the pursuits I have 
named can scarcely be called mechanical altogether,) all 
work which involves attention,—much more all work 
which involves thought,—seems to preclude the realiza¬ 
tion of the Divine Presence at the moment of its being 
done. For the human mind is so constituted that it 
cannot be given to two subjects simultaneously, any 
more than the eye can be fixed upon two objects 
simultaneously. Where men are said to have the gift 
of attending to two matters at once, this is only a 
figure of speech, indicating the power of rapid transi¬ 
tion from one matter to another. It would seem then 
that, while engaged in any work which asks for an 
exercise of mind,—reading, or writing, or computing, 
or conversing, as the case may be,—men cannot think 
of God’s Presence, and that therefore it would be unreal 
to exhort them to do so. 

Before answering this objection, let me call attention 
(and, as we are giving counsels upon work, it will not 
be wandering from the point to do so) to the element 
of truth and reason which there is in it. It is a moral 
lesson, which quite deserves the rank of a spiritual 
counsel, that undivided attention to one thing at a 
time is necessary to do any work well. Such attention 
is at once a duty to the work, and a duty to the mind 
engaged in the work. Exclude for the time all 


174 


Bo all in God. 


[PAET 

thought of other matters, as carefully as if they did 
not exist. If other business presses, there is no help 
for it,—it must wait till the first is transacted. Where 
persons are heavily engaged, there is a certain feverish 
fidgetiness to take up several tasks at once, which 
greatly interferes with quietness and thoughtfulness of 
mind, and so with progress. Let the aim of such 
persons be to do the thing well, rather than to get 
through it fast. A saint of old inculcated this precept 
very well, though very quaintly, when he said that 
“ Christians often need to be reminded that with only 
one pair of hands they cannot thread two needles at the 
same time.” And a wiser man than he, speaking as 
the organ of the Spirit of God, said, “ Whatsoever thy 
hand findeth to do, do it with thy might.” 

But in answer to the objection respecting the im¬ 
possibility of realizing the Divine Presence, while 
engaged in any work which calls for mental effort, it is 
to be observed that what we recommend, and what is 
surely attainable, is the mere consciousness that God’s 
eye is upon us. 

That this consciousness need not interfere with the 
most active exercise of the powers of the mind, is clear 
from the following consideration:— 

A man’s mind is never more actively engaged than 
when he is making an extempore address. Under such 
circumstances he must think, remember, judge, imagine, 
institute comparisons, all within the space of time 
allotted to his speech; and all not in a disjointed 
aimless way, but with the view of proving one point 
and persuading to one conclusion: thought, memory, 
judgment, imagination, comparison, must all be gathered 
(if the speech is to be an effective one) like so many rays 
of the sun into one burning-glass, and made to concen¬ 
trate their forces on a single point. Probably there is 
no exercise in the world which so calls out the whole 
mind simultaneously as that of extempore speech. 

Yet, what speaker for a moment forgets, or can 
forget, that the eyes of his audience are upon him ? 
It is just their intense consciousness of the human 


Do all in God. 


175 


in.] 

presence, of its reality, and of tlie impossibility of 
escaping from it, that makes the speaking with many 
able men so difficult a thing. They might express 
themselves fluently enough in solitude, but in public 
their consciousness of the human presence is too much 
for the mind, paralyzes it for the time being. He who 
proposes to become a speaker must acquire the habit of 
so holding under this consciousness, as that free play 
may be allowed to the exercise of the mind. Of 
holding it under, I say,—for it is impossible that any 
speaker should ever entirely suppress it. So far from 
suppressing it, most men, when speaking, are unusually 
sensitive of impressions from the upturned counte¬ 
nances which are fixed upon them. The feelings of 
the audience communicate themselves to the mind of 
the person addressing them by a curious, almost electric, 
sympathy: if their features evince interest, he takes 
heart and goes on swimmingly; if their attention flags, 
he is discouraged ; if they seem perplexed, he feels that 
he must somewhat expand his matter, and explain 
himself; if they are very animated, and have fairly 
embarked with him on the full current of his argu¬ 
ment, he feels that he is master of their minds, and 
can sway them to and fro, as the wind sways the trees 
of the wood. But any how, consciousness of their pre¬ 
sence forms, if I may so say, the very groundwork of 
his mind. 

It is abundantly clear, then, that consciousness of a 
presence need not interfere with the most active 
operations of mind. And if consciousness of the pre¬ 
sence of man need not do so, why need consciousness of 
the Presence of God? All that the precept, “Walk 
before Me, and be thou perfect,” implies is, that we 
should acquire and maintain such a consciousness. 
But how is this done ? Our senses give us assurance 
of the human presence, and the senses are in all of us 
sufficiently keen and alive. But how shall we obtain 
an habitual assurance of a truth whereof our senses 
give us no notice whatever ?—how shall we walk before 
God, as seeing Him who is invisible? In the same 


176 Do all in God. [paet 

way by which all other results in the spiritual life are 
obtained,—by trustful, expectant, sanguine prayer, and 
effort. It is obvious that this very grace—mindfulness 
or consciousness of God’s Presence—may be made the 
subject of special Prayer, an answer to which, as in the 
case of every spiritual blessing which we petition for, 
should be looked for with confidence, on the ground of 
God’s promise to Prayer. But then there is, besides 
this, the doing what in us lies to attain the end. And 
what in us lies is this,—to call the attention definitely 
to God’s Presence, as occasion offers, at the necessary 
breaks or periods in our work, and the occasional 
mingling with the act of recollection two or three 
words of secret prayer, which may suggest themselves 
on the moment; such as, “ Thou, God, seest me,”— 
“ Have I also here looked after Him that seeth me?” 
—“ Thou art about my path ” (in the daytime), “ and 
about my bed ” (in the silent watches of the night). 

The conception of God’s Presence will take different 
shapes in different minds. We may regard Him as 
locally present every where, the veil of matter screening 
Him from our view, just as a king might really be 
moving up and down in the midst of a company of 
blind persons; or we may regard Him as having a 
certain intimate connexion with our own minds, as 
upholding momentarily in us the powers of life and 
thought, according to that word of St. Paul’s, “In Him 
we live, and move, and have our being;” or lastly, we 
may think of Our Lord in human form looking down 
upon our probation from the Heavenly Throne, just as 
He appeared at the martyrdom of St. Stephen. All 
other modes of viewing the subject resolve themselves 
into the primary ones, in which, as you will see, there 
is a reference to the three Persons of the Blessed 
Trinity. Even the most earnest work would not be 
materially impeded, and certainly it would be done in a 
brighter and happier, as well as a holier state of mind, 
if these little efforts of attention were made during its 
progress. And it will be found, in course of time, that 
the constant recurrence of the thoughts to God will 


Do dll in God. 


Ill 


m.] 

pass into an instinctive consciousness of His Presence, 
and that the mind will acquire a tendency to gravitate 
towards Him at all times, which will operate easily and 
naturally as soon as it is relieved of the strain which 
worldly affairs put upon it. An excellent writer on 
devotion, whom we have quoted previously, speaking on 
the topic of secular affairs, and showing how they must 
be despatched with earnestness, and yet without soli¬ 
citude, says,—“ Do as little children do, who with one 
hand hold fast by their father, and with the other 
gather hips and haws or blackberries along the hedges; 
so you, gathering and managing with one hand the 
things of this world, must with the other always hold 
fast the hand of your Heavenly Father, turning your¬ 
self towards Him from time to time, to see if your 
actions or occupations be pleasing to Him; but above 
all things take heed that you never let go His pro¬ 
tecting hand, thinking to gather more ; for should He 
forsake you, you will not be able to go a step without 
falling to the ground. My meaning is, that amidst 
those ordinary affairs which require not so earnest an 
attention, you should look more on God than on them ; 
and when they are of such importance as to require 
your whole attention, that then also you should look 
from time to time towards God, like mariners of the 
olden time, who, to arrive at the port to which they 
were bound, looked more up towards heaven than down 
on the sea on which they sailed: thus will God work 
with you, in you, and for you; and all your labours 
shall be accompanied with consolations.” 

In cultivating the consciousness of the Divine 
Presence, we shall find it useful to catch at every help 
which our circumstances afford. Let us just glance at 
some of these circumstances, and at the account to 
which they may be turned. 

It is not hard to see how a rural walk, even through 
the plainest country, may suggest devout musings. As 
we mark the sprouting leaf, or blossoming flower, we 
may call to mind that God is silently, but powerfully 
putting forth His activities in our immediate neigh- 

ET 


178 Do all in God. [part 

bourhood; as we brush by the hedge, and make the 
little bird dart up from it in the palpitation of sudden 
fear, we are on the field of His operations. Why, when 
standing upon such ground, are we impressed so slightly 
with awe of His power and His skill ? Mechanism of 
human contrivance generally strikes awe into the mind 
of the unsophisticated beholder. In the great bell- 
tower or clock-tower of a cathedral, where the huge 
rafters, which form the case of the machinery, cross 
each other above our heads and under our feet, or in 
the engine-house of some great manufactory, where 
cranks and pistons sough, and wheels whirr on all sides 
of us, and we are warned that, if part of the machinery 
caught our dress, we should be drawn in and crushed 
to pieces by one revolution of the engine, with as little 
power to resist as the mouse who is under the paw of 
the lion; in such places a nervous shuddering thrills 
through the frame, and the consciousness of so tremen¬ 
dous a force so near at hand is apt to shake and dismay 
the mind. How is it that we feel little or no awe when 
in the neighbourhood of a Power whose operations are 
irresistible,—a Power who holds our breath in His 
hand, and by closing His hand upon it at any moment 
might stop instantaneously that palpitation of the 
heart, and that circulation of the blood, which we call 
by the mysterious name “ Life P” It is partly because 
God works so silently, without any display of His 
machinery,—because the peep of the dawn, and the 
opening of the blossom are done by the evolution of 
gentle, but most effectual, influences; God eschewing 
in His operations that horrid clank and whirr, which 
announces itself as powerful, and terrifies by the an¬ 
nouncement,—partly also because, almost unconsciously 
to ourselves, we entertain a secret disbelief in the Om¬ 
nipresence of a Personal God; and cover Him up from 
our own regards in an abstraction meaningless, power¬ 
less, passionless, devotionless, to which we give the 
chilling name of “ Nature.” 

But does the walk through the streets of the 
crowded city suggest no thoughts of God’s nearness ? 


Do all in God. 


179 


m.] 

Are not the activities of His Providence busy with 
every one of the individuals whose path intersects 
ours? If we could know the life of each of them, 
is there not a providential drama, which is working 
itself out in their fortunes, gradually developing its 
catastrophe in the subordinate incidents of their career ? 
And amidst all the many councils, schemes, and de¬ 
vices, which each of them is forming, and in virtue 
of which they seem to be the ultimate masters of their 
own destiny, is there not a Power behind the scenes, 
“ directing their steps,”—a Divinity that shapes their 
ends, rough hew them how they will? Is it not a 
solemn thing to be in the immediate neighbourhood of 
a Power, which is unrolling inch by inch the ground- 
plan of many human lives ? 

But another reflection may usefully come to our aid 
in our efforts to realize the Presence of God amid the 
throng and hum of men. The Incarnation of the Son 
of God, and His covenanted Presence among the two 
or three gathered together in His Name, leads us to 
connect the thought of God with human society in a 
manner, which before the Incarnation would have been 
impossible. The abstract God we associate in our 
minds with the lone places of nature; we hear His 
whisper in the breeze which stirs the leaves of the se¬ 
questered glen, His louder utterance in the thunder, 
the avalanche, and the wild wind which churns the 
ocean into fury. But the Eternal Wisdom of God, 
Who for our sakes became incarnate, describes Himself 
as “ rejoicing in the habitable parts of the earth, and 
having His delights among the sons of men.” Christ 
walked up and down in the midst of us, trode our 
streets, sat by our hearths, ministered at the sick-beds 
of men, was the invited Guest at their marriages, and 
the great Comforter at their funerals, to teach this 
among other lessons, that we may find the footprints 
of our God, if we will only look for them, in human 
society. The human face with all its power of expres¬ 
siveness, both in sorrow and in joy, is a sort of sacra¬ 
ment of His Presence; and a true faith will enable us 
N 2 


180 Do all in God. [part 

to pierce the veil, under which He conceals Himself 
from the bodily eye, and to find Him still mixed up 
with the interests and concerns of men, forbearing, for¬ 
giving, warning, counselling, comforting. The peculiar 
value of this last reflection lies in the fact that, for 
reasons connected with the constitution of the mind, 
it is far more easy to realize the Presence of God in 
solitude than in company. There is something in us 
which immediately responds to the words of Christ, 
when He counsels privacy for the purpose of devotion, 
“ Thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and 
when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father 
which is in secret.” An instinct, deeply implanted in 
our spiritual nature, assures us that we must shut out 
the world, if we would realize the Divine Presence. 
And this is eminently true as far as our hearts are 
concerned. To disencumber them of earthly cares, 
earthly interests, and the debasing, corroding influence 
of worldly affairs, is an absolutely essential condition of 
our drawing nigh to God. But the mere company of 
others need not be a hindrance, nay, may be rather a 
help to this detachment, if we learn to connect society 
with the thought of Christ, and Christ with the 
thought of society. If He condescended to join 
Himself to human life, to take an experimental interest 
in every stage and in every phase of it, is not that 
sufficient to sanctify its every stage and phase? If 
He was essentially a man of the city, and not, like His 
forerunner, a man of the wilderness, may not men of 
the city hope to find His footprints by the side of their 
daily life, and take occasion, even from that life, to 
think of Him much, and thus spiritualize their earthly 
citizenship ? Few stars in the firmament of the Church 
chine brighter than that of St. Matthew, one of the 
twelve Apostles, and the Evangelist of what may be 
called the mother Gospel. And what was St. Matthew 
originally? A man conversant not with rural, but 
with city life,—not with contemplation, but with 
business. Not an unsophisticated fisherman, like the 
rest of his colleagues, but a collector of taxes for the 


181 


in.] Of Interruptions in our Work, Sfc. 

Roman Government, one who sat daily at the receipt 
of custom, driving a trade essentially secular. Yet 
God Incarnate crossed his path, and singled him out of 
the throng as one who should draw many souls, minted 
anew with the image and superscription of the Heavenly 
King, into the treasury of God, and sat at meat in 
his house in company with many publicans and sinners, 
and set him upon one of the twelve thrones, which 
Apostles shall visibly occupy in the regeneration of all 
things, and placed around his brow, as a coronet, the 
Pentecostal tongue of fire. It is a great lesson that, 
if only our hearts are right and true, we may find 
Christ,—or rather maybe found of Him,—in the traffic 
of secular affairs. May we so learn this lesson, as to 
know it, not in theory only, but by experience! 

“ There are in this loud stunning tide 
Of human care and crime, 

With whom the melodies abide 
Of the everlasting chime ; 

Who carry music in their heart. 

Through dusky lane and wrangling mart; 

Plying their daily task with busier feet, 

Because their secret souls a holy strain repeat.” 


CHAPTER IY. 

OF INTERRUPTIONS IN OUR WORK, AND THE WAT TO 
DEAL WITH THEM. 

“ We are created in Christ Jesus unto good works , which 
God hath before ordained that we should walk in 
them.” —Eph. ii. 10. 

We have spoken in the two foregoing Chapters of the 
work which God has allotted to us, and of the spirit 
which must be thrown into it, if we would convert it into 
a sacrifice. He who tries to infuse this spirit into his 
daily work will do it earnestly. He will throw all his 



182 Of Interruptions in our Work, [paet 

powers of heart and soul into it; and whereas before 
much of his duty has been done mechanically, his nobler 
faculties will now be called into exercise in the doing of 
it. It will all be done thoughtfully and seriously, and 
mixed with prayer, the highest effort of which the mind 
is capable. 

And the very earnestness with which the work is now 
done may bring with it a snare. When the mind is 
intently bent upon one action, and that action is felt to 
be a serious one, it is greatly embarrassed and annoyed 
by interruptions. Other things making a claim upon 
the attention, distract and harass us. Of course it is 
not so with the man who hangs about upon life with 
no serious pursuit. Interruptions are to him a pleasing 
variety; nor can he at all appreciate the trial of which 
we speak. But in proportion to the seriousness with 
which the Christian does his work will be, if I may so 
say, his sensitiveness to interruptions. And as this 
sensitiveness is very apt to disturb his peace, (and in 
doing so to retard his progress,) we will in this Chapter 
show the manner in which interruptions should be met, 
and the spirit with which they should be encountered. 

The great remedy, then, for the sensitiveness to 
which I have alluded, is a closer study of the mind that 
was in Christ, as that mind transpires in His recorded 
conduct. The point in the life of Our Lord to which 
I wish to call attention, is the apparent want of what 
may be called method or plan in His life,—I mean 
method or plan of His own devising, the fact that His 
good works were not in pursuance of some scheme laid 
down by Himself, but such as entered into God’s 
scheme for Him, such as the Father had prepared for 
Him to walk in. 

I. And, first, notice His discourses, both in their 
occasions, and in their contexture. 

(1) They most often take their rise from some object 
which is thrown across His path in nature, from some 
occurrence which takes place under His eyes, or from 
some question which is put to Him. For the wonderful 
discourse in John vi. upon the Living Bread, we are 


III.] and the way to deal with them. 183 

entirely indebted to the circumstance that after the 
miracle of the loaves the carnal multitude sought Him, 
in anxiety to have their natural wants once again satis¬ 
fied by miracle. It was not that Jesus had previously 
prepared for them such a discourse j but this was the 
discourse which their conduct drew from Him.—He 
meets a Samaritan woman at Jacob’s well, and op¬ 
pressed with the noontide heat, asks her for water from 
her bucket. Her answer leads on to a close dealing 
with the woman’s conscience, and to the announcement 
of certain great truths respecting that living Water, 
whereof whosoever drinketh shall never thirst. But 
here again the 'words rise spontaneously from the occa¬ 
sion.—The murmurs of the Pharisees and Scribes, be¬ 
cause Jesus received sinners and ate with them, elicited 
for our everlasting consolation the noble parables of the 
lost sheep, the lost coin, and the prodigal son.—An ob¬ 
servation falling from a guest at table, a mere devout 
sentiment casually dropped in His hearing, “ Blessed 
is he that shall eat bread in the kingdom of God,” drew 
from His lips the parable of the great Supper.—A cer¬ 
tain man asked Him to undertake an arbitration between 
himself and his brother as to their respective shares of 
their hereditary property. This suggested to Our Lord 
the topic of covetousness, and the parable of the rich 
fool, illustrative of that topic. 

All the above are instances in which Scripture itself 
explicitly traces the connexion between certain occasions 
and the discourses of Our Lord. And divines have 
recognized many others, where the connexion, though 
not expressed, is not obscurely implied. 

(2) But a similar remark holds good respecting the 
contexture of these wonderful discourses. Jesus spake 
as “ never man spake,” as never wise man after the 
flesh had any idea of speaking. For Our Lord’s great 
discourses are not constructed upon any such method 
or plan, as the human intellect recognizes. Pascal 
somewhere remarks that there are two orders of dis¬ 
course,—one which he calls the order of the intellect, 
the other the order of love. The order of the intellect is 


184 Of Interruptions in our Work, [paet 

to have an exordium, a series of arguments bearing on 
the matter in hand, a series of illustrations, and what is 
called a peroration or close. This order does not admit 
of divergences or digressions ; any interruptions of the 
plan are to the mere intellect impertinences, and the 
pruning-knife of a merely intellectual critic would cut 
them unsparingly away. The order of love, on the 
other hand, says this truly spiritual writer, is to have a 
heart so penetrated with the subject, as to be impatient 
of the restraints of intellectual method, and to burst 
away in pursuit of favourite topics, as the mind within 
suggests. This, says he, is the only order observed in 
the writings of St. Augustine and St. Paul, and in the 
discourses of their Divine Master, Jesus Christ. And 
the remark is pre-eminently true. Take the Sermon on 
the Mount, and try to analyze it. You will find that 
it defies methodical analysis. While no head of Chris¬ 
tian precept is left untouched, there is no such sys¬ 
tematic arrangement as we can easily put upon paper. 
There was no doubt an undercurrent of thought in the 
mind of the Divine Preacher, welding together the 
different sections of the great Sermon, and leading Him 
on fluently from topic to topic; but nothing can less 
wear the aspect of a discourse framed upon a dry pre¬ 
conceived plan. Doubtless it was as the swallow caught 
His eye, skimming along to its nest with food for its 
young, and as the lily or blue-bell of Palestine waved 
before Him on the hill-side, that He took occasion to 
illustrate His precepts against worldly carefulness by 
those wonderful sections, beginning, “ Behold the fowls 
of the air,” “ Consider the lilies of the field.” This is 
the only plan observable in the discourse,—the plan of 
a loving heart pouring itself out, as occasion serves, for 
the edification of mankind. 

II. But the absence of mere human plan, or rather 
strict faithfulness to the plan of God, as hourly deve¬ 
loped by the movements of His Providence, charac¬ 
terizes the life of Our Lord even more than His dis¬ 
courses. His object throughout is not to carry out 
schemes j:reconceived by Himself, but to study God’s 


185 


hi.] and the way to deal with them. 

guidings, and to be true to God’s occasions and God’s 
inspirations. Take only that portion of His life re¬ 
corded in a single chapter,—the ninth of St. Matthew. 
Jesus is interrupted in the midst of a discourse which 
He was holding in the house, by the appearance of a 
couch with a palsied man upon it, lowered into the 
midst of the court under His eyes. So far from ac¬ 
counting the interruption unseasonable, He first ab¬ 
solves, and then heals the patient, and thus secures 
glory to God from the multitude. The miracle 
performed, He passes out into the open air, perhaps 
for refreshment, and His eye catches Matthew sit¬ 
ting at the receipt of custom. He calls him, and 
Matthew follows. Matthew invites Our Lord to a 
meal, and our Lord accepts the invitation; sits down 
with publicans and sinners, and profits by the occa¬ 
sion to speak of the freeness of His Grace.—In con¬ 
nexion probably with His appearance at a festival, the 
disciples of John ask Him why His disciples did not 
fast. He explains why. Jairus comes to solicit His 
merciful interference in behalf of a dying daughter. 
Jesus follows him forthwith to his house, when, lo and 
behold, another interruption, which to the feelings of 
Jairus, all impatient to have the great Healer under 
his roof, must have been extremely galling. The wo¬ 
man with an issue of blood steals a cure from Him on 
the road. Jesus stops to draw from her an acknow¬ 
ledgment of the benefit, and to dismiss her with a word 
of consolation and blessing. Then He resumes His 
former errand of love, arrives at Jairus’ house, and 
raises the dead maiden.—Coming out, probably on His 
return to His own abode, the blind men follow Him 
into the house, and receive their cure.—They have 
scarcely gone out, when the man possessed with a 
dumb devil is brought to Him, and restored; and thus 
ends the detailed portion of the chapter, what follows 
being a general and summary survey. 

This is a good specimen of Our Lord’s whole way of 
life, and of how He went about doing good, not on a 
rigid, unbending, preconcerted plan, but as the Father, 


186 Of Interruptions in our Work, [part 

in the course of His Providence, ministered to Him 
the occasion. 

Now, as God ordained beforehand certain good works 
in which the Son of His Love was to walk, so He 
deals v/ith each follower of His Son, according to the 
humble capacity of that follower, on a similar prin¬ 
ciple. Christian, whoever you are, whatever your 
sphere, whatever your gifts, whatever your station, 
God has a plan of life for you. More than this, He 
has a plan of useful life for you, a plan of doing good, 
—certain occasions and opportunities of doing good all 
mapped out for you in His eternal counsels. These 
occasions and opportunities are to arise day by day 
upon you, as you pursue your beaten path of life, just 
as while the globe turns round upon its axis, the sun 
in course of time rises upon those parts of it which 
before were dark. Now this, perhaps, is a novel view 
to some of my readers. They are accustomed to think 
of the place which Our Lord has prepared for His 
followers,—of the joys which God has prepared for 
those who unfeignedly love Him;—but they think 
comparatively little of the sphere of good works, which 
is just as much prepared for them to occupy here as is 
the sphere of glory hereafter. Yet this is a certain 
and infallible truth. If God have before ordained cer¬ 
tain persons to eternal life, He hath also before or¬ 
dained good works for those individuals to walk in. 

Reader, are you a firm believer in the Providence 
of God? because the whole doctrine which we are 
setting forth is really wrapped up in God’s Pro¬ 
vidence. Do you believe that the whole of your 
affairs—trivial as well as great, irregular as well as in 
the ordinary course—are under His absolute, daily, 
hourly supervision and control ? that nothing can 
possibly arise to you or any other, which is not foreseen 
by Him, arranged for by Him, brought by Him within 
the circle of His great plan ? that the little inci¬ 
dents of each day, as well as the solemn crisis of life, 
are His ordering? Then you virtually concede all 
that the Apostle asserts in this verse. For you admit 


III.] and the way to deal with, them. 187 

that the occurrences of each day, however unlooked 
for, however contrary to expectation, are God-sent, and 
those which affect you sent specially and with discrimi¬ 
nation to yourself. 

Now it cannot he thought that God sends events to 
a living soul, in order that the soul may he simply 
passive under the events. If God sends you an event, 
it must have a meaning; it must be a sign to you 
that you are to do something, to brace yourself up to 
some action or to some state of feeling. All that God 
sends to a human spirit must be significant. God has 
sent us His Word. We know that He designs us not 
simply to hear it, but to embrace it with a living faith 
and a loving obedience. We are to meditate upon it, 
to apply it to our consciences, mould our character and 
conduct in conformity to it. Now the same God who 
has sent us His Word equally sends us the daily occur¬ 
rences of life, the chief difference being that, whereas 
the Word has a general voice for all, in which each is 
to find his own case represented, the occurrences are 
charged with a more specific message to individuals. 
Now there is many a man who says, “ I will conform 
myself to the general indications of God’s Will made to 
me by His Wordcomparatively few who say, “ I 
will conform myself to the special indications of God’s 
Will made to me by His Providence.” But why so 
few ? Does not God come home to us more closely, 
more searchingly, more personally by His Providence 
than even by His Word? Does not His finger rest 
upon each of us more particularly in the government 
of affairs than even in Revelation ? And why arc we 
to imagine, as many seem to imagine, that no other 
events but such as are afflictive and calamitous have a 
voice for us ? Why not every event ? Why is not 
the ordinary intercourse of life to be regarded as fur¬ 
nishing in God’s design and intention opportunities of 
either doing or receiving good? I say of doing or 
receiving good. Surely either one or the other is a 
thing greatly to be coveted. In nine cases out of ten 
we may fail of doing good; hut if in those cases we 


188 Of Interruptions in our Work, [pahi- 

have received good, and received it too in the course of 
His plan for us, and in the way of His Providence, 
surely the occurrence which has called us off from our 
ordinary pursuit is not to be regretted. 

Here, then, lies the real remedy for the uneasiness of 
mind which is caused by interruptions. View them as 
part of God's loving and wise plan for your day , and 
try to maJce out His meaning in sending them. When 
in your hour of morning devotion you distribute your 
time before hand (as it is in every way wise and proper 
to do), let it always be with the proviso that the said 
arrangement shall be subject to modifications by God’s 
plan for you, as that plan shall unfold itself hour by 
hour to your apprehensions. When you have entered 
upon the day, observe narrowly the quarter in which 
His finger points, and be true to that direction. There 
lies thy prepared task. There are the good works, not 
which thou hast devised, but which God hath before 
ordained that thou shouldest walk in them. Break not 
away for an instant from the guidance of His Provi¬ 
dence; for remember that thou art a child walking 
among pitfalls and stumbling-blocks, and no sooner 
shalt thou release thy grasp than thou shalt be broken, 
and snared, and taken. A case of distress is flung in 
your way as you are bound upon your daily occu¬ 
pations. The spirit of the age says, “ Dismiss it, 
—you have no time to spare,—leave it to the Poor- 
house or to the Mendicity Society, and pass on.” Or 
it is suggested, in the midst of your avocations, that 
there is some word of sympathy to be said or to 
be written to a friend in trouble,—only a cup of cold 
water in point of intrinsic value, hut still a very re¬ 
freshing one to a man in the furnace of affliction. 
“But you are too much occupied,” says the busy, 
bustling, hard spirit of the age ; “ you have no time 
for sympathies or sentimentalities; you must go for¬ 
ward ; if you desire to be successful in life, you cannot 
afford to stop on the way.” Now without denying that 
in particular cases such counsel may admit of palliation 
in a greater or less degree, Truth compels us to say 


hi.] and the way to deal with them . 189 

that this was not the mind which was in Christ Jesus. 
His ear was never inaccessible to human suffering, and 
His mind was never unobservant of God’s plans. He 
does not pass over the woman with the issue of blood. 
He does not leave her without her lesson and without 
her consolation, because He is bound on an errand of 
love to the house of Jairus. He does not make occa¬ 
sions bend to Him; but, knowing that occasions are 
the Father’s call, He addresses Himself to serve occa¬ 
sions. He is constantly (according to the advice which 
He Himself inspired His Apostle to give us) “ re¬ 
deeming the opportunity ” 

But supposing that during the day no opportunity 
occurs of doing good. Supposing, for example, that 
the case of distress into which we have patiently exa¬ 
mined turns out, as it very frequently will, to be a 
gross imposture,—have we therefore lost our labour in 
a spiritual point of view ? Not surely, if we have con¬ 
formed our will to God’s design for us. There is no 
interruption in the world, however futile and apparently 
perverse, which we may not address ourselves to meet 
with a spirit of patience and condescension borrowed 
from our Master ; and to have made a step in advance 
in conforming to the mind of Christ will be quite as 
great a gain (probably a far greater) than if we had 
been engaged in our pursuit. For, after all, we may 
be too intent upon our business, or rather intent in a 
wrong way. The radical fault of our nature, be it 
remembered, is Self-will; and we little suspect how 
largely Self-will and Self-pleasing may be at the bottom 
of plans and pursuits, which still have God’s glory and 
the furtherance of His Service for their professed end. 

Header, the path which we have indicated is the 
path not of sanctity only, but of peace also. We shall 
never serve God with a quiet mind, unless we more or 
less tread in this path. It is a miserable thing to be 
the sport and prey of interruptions; it wastes the 
energies of the human spirit, and excites fretfulness, 
and so leads us into temptation, as it is written, “ Fret 
not thyself; else shalt thou be moved to do evil.” 


190 Of Interruptions in our Work, Sfc. [part 

But suppose the mind to be well grounded in the truth 
that God’s foresight and fore-arrangement embraces all 
which seems to us an interruption,—that in this inter¬ 
ruption lies awaiting us a good work in which it is 
part of His Eternal counsel that we should walk, or 
a good frame of mind which He wishes us to cultivate; 
then we are forearmed against surprises and contra¬ 
dictions ; we have found an alchemy which converts 
each unforeseen and untoward occurrence into gold; 
and the balm of peace distils upon our heart, even 
though we be disappointed of the end which we had 
proposed to ourselves. For which is better, safer, 
sweeter,—to walk in the works which God hath before 
ordained, or to walk in the way of our own hearts and 
in the sight of our eyes P 

Ah, Reader! let us seek to grasp the true notion of 
Providence; for in it there is peace and deep repose of 
soul. Life has often been compared to a Drama. Now 
in a good drama there is one plot, variously evolved by 
incidents of different kinds, which until the last act- 
present entanglement and confusion. Vice has its 
temporary triumphs, virtue its temporary depressions. 
What of that ? You know it will come right in the 
end. You know there is an organizing mind which 
unfolds the story, and that the poet will certainly bring 
the whole to a climax by the ultimate vindication of 
righteousness and the doing of poetical justice upon 
malefactors. To this end every shifting of the scene, 
every movement of the actors, every by-plot and under¬ 
plot is made to contribute. Wheel within wheel is 
working together towards this result. Well, Life is 
God’s great Drama. It was thought out and composed 
in the Eternal mind before the mountains were brought 
forth, or ever the earth and the world were made. In 
time God made a theatre for it, called the Earth ; and 
now the great Drama is being acted thereon. It 
is on a gigantic scale, this Drama. The scenes are 
shifting every hour. One set of characters drops off 
the stage, and new ones come on, to play much the 
same part as the first, only in new dresses. There 


191 


hi .] Fight wisely. 

seem to be entanglements, perplexities, interruptions, 
confusions, contradictions without end; but you may 
be sure there is one ruling thought, one master-design, 
to which all these are subordinate. Every incident, 
every character, however apparently adverse, contri¬ 
butes to work out that ruling thought. Think you 
that the Divine Dramatist will leave any thing out of 
the scope of His plot ? Nay, the circumference of that 
plot embraces within its vast sweep every incident 
which Time ever brought to birth. 

Thou knowest that the mind which organized this 
Drama is Wisdom. Thou knowest more: thou knowest 
that it is Love. Then of its ending grandly, wisely, 
nobly, lovingly, infinitely well for them who love God, 
there can be no doubt. But remember you are an 
actor in it; not a puppet worked by wires, but an 
actor. It is yours to study the plot as it unfolds itself, 
to throw yourself into it intelligently, warmly, zeal¬ 
ously. Be sure to learn your part well, and to recite 
it manfully. Be not clamorous for another or more 
dignified character than that which is allotted you,— 
be it your sole aim to conspire with the Author, and to 
subserve His grand and wise conception. 

Thus shall you cease from your own wisdom. Thus 
shall you find peace in submitting yourself to the 
wisdom which is of God. And thus, finally, shall He 
pronounce you a good and faithful servant, and summon 
you to enter into the joy of your Lord. 


CHAPTER V. 

TIGHT WISELY. 

<l So fight 1] not as one that heateth the air ”—1 Cor. 
ix. 26. 

The three elements which enter into the composition 
of the Spiritual Life, are Acting, Fighting, and Suffer- 



192 


Fight wisely. [part 

ing. Of the first of these we have spoken ; and now, 
from the consideration of the Christian in his duties , we 
pass to the consideration of him in his temptations , or, 
in other words, we proceed to consider him as fighting. 

Two of the main sources whence temptations arise are 
the Devil and the flesh ; or, in other words, our great 
spiritual adversary, and the traitorous correspondence 
which he meets with from the heart of man. Now the 
heart being, according to the sure testimony of God’s 
Word, deceitful above all things, and Satan’s method 
of operation, too, being by stratagem rather than open 
violence, the first method, therefore, of meeting 
temptation aright must he to meet it wisely. Policy 
must be opposed by policy, according to the warning 
of the Holy Apostle : “ Lest Satan should get an 
advantage over us; for we are not ignorant of his 
devices .” 

How then shall we fight wisely ? This is our ques¬ 
tion in the present Chapter. 

Now to fight wisely is not to fight at a venture, hut 
with a definite aim. “ So fight I,” says the Apostle, 
“ not as one that beateth the air.” In which words he 
is drawing an image from the boxing-match in the 
Isthmian games, and declares that in the spiritual 
combat, he does not wear out his strength by vain 
flourishes of his hands in the air, but plants each blow 
certainly and with a telling aim (ovtcd ttvktcvo) d>s ovk 
aipa Sepoov). 

We read indeed that King Ahab was shot by an 
arrow sent at a venture, that is, without deliberate aim: 
but this is told us to magnify the Providence of 
Almighty God who, in His designs of wrath, can direct 
the aimless shaft whithersoever it pleases Him; not 
surely to teach us that aimless shafts are likely on com¬ 
mon occasions to be successful. Yet what is the warfare 
of many earnest and well-intentioned Christians but the 
sending of shafts at a venture ? They have a certain 
notion that they must resist the evil within and 
without them ; but then this evil presents itself in so 
many forms, that they are bewildered and confounded. 


III.] Fight ivisely. 193 

and know not where to begin. And so it often comes 
to pass that their time and labour is thrown away in 
repressing symptoms, where they should be applying 
their whole energy to the seat of the disorder. 

On the other hand, the first work of the politic 
spiritual warrior will be to discover his besetting sin, or 
sins, and having discovered it, to concentrate all his 
disposable force before this fortress. 

Just as each individual has a certain personal con¬ 
figuration, distinguishing him from all other men at 
first sight; just as his hair has a certain colour, his 
limbs a certain make, his features a certain cast; or 
just as each of us is said to be born into the world 
with some one defective organ, be it heart, liver, or 
lungs; so in the moral constitution of each individual 
there is some sin or sins, which more than others is 
conformable to his temperament, and therefore more 
easily developed by his circumstances,—which expresses 
far more of his character than others. This bosom 
sin has eminently the attribute which the Apostle 
ascribes to all sin; it is eminently deceitful. Its 
especial property is to lurk: sometimes it puts on the 
mask of a virtue or a grace, not unfrequently that of 
some other sin; but masked somehow or other it loves 
to be, and the longer Satan can keep it masked, the 
better it serves his purpose. 

Let us give some examples of a bosom sin thus 
masking itself. With a very large proportion of man¬ 
kind, the besetting sin is vanity. Who knows not 
how this detestable sin frequently apes humility, so as 
really to impress its possessor with the notion that he 
is humble? Intensely self-satisfied in his heart of 
hearts, he depreciates himself, his talents, his successes, 
his efforts in conversation. What follows ? A natural 
reaction of public sentiment in his favour. Men say 
to him, as in the Parable, “ Go up higher.” He has 
been fishing for compliments, and compliments have 
risen to the hook. Is it not so? For would he not 
have bitterly resented it in the inner man, had any 
of' the company taken him at his word, and coolly 

o 


194 


Fight wisely . [part 

answered to his self-depreciation, “ What you say about 
the inferiority of your talents, and the paucity of your 
successes, is no doubt perfectly true?” True the 
words may have been; but he did not say them 
because they were true, but because his lust of com¬ 
mendation craved some smooth word which might 
pamper it. Here is the bosom-adder of vanity coiled 
up in the violet-tuft of humility. To take another 
case. It is part of some men’s character, as their 
friends would phrase it for them, that they cannot bear 
to be second. Whatever they do must be done (I do 
not say commendably well, for all things that are 
worth doing ought to be done commendably well), hut 
superlatively well, brilliantly, so as to throw into the 
shade all competitors. Accordingly, they are disposed 
to decline or abandon all pursuits in which they feel 
they can never excel. Now what is this feeling, 
when we bring it into the court of conscience, and 
come to examine and scrutinize its ground? The 
world dignifies it with the name of honourable emula¬ 
tion, and accepts it as a token of a fine character. 
And thus much is true, and may not be denied, that 
there is usually some stuff in the characters, whose 
leading principle is such as I have described. In that 
singular way in which one principle hangs together 
with another, like bees clustering on a flower, or limpets 
on a weedy rock, this emulation, as it is called, is 
somehow connected and intertwined with that energy 
and resolve which are the raw material from which 
earthly greatness is manufactured. But, judged by the 
mind of Our Lord Jesus, which is the one standard of 
saintliness, how does the sentiment sound, “ Because I 
cannot be brilliant, so as to outshine all rivals, therefore 
I will be nothing?” It jars strangely, I think, with 
the music of those words, “ The kings of the Gentiles 
exercise lordship over them; and they that exercise 
authority upon them are called benefactors. But ye 
shall not be so: but he that is greatest among you, let 
him be as the younger, and he that is chief as he that 
doth serve.” And again with those: “ Let nothing be 


195 


in.] Fight wisely. 

clone through strife or vain glory; but in lowliness of 
mind let each esteem other better than himself.” And 
again with that touching expression of Our Lord’s 
humility, prophetically foreseen and predicted by the 
Psalmist, long years before His coming in the flesh: 
“ Lord, I am not high-minded; I have no proud looks. 
I do not exercise myself in great matters which are too 
high for me; but I refrain my soul, and keep it low, 
like as a child that is weaned from his mother; yea, 
my soul is even as a weaned child.” Alas! when we 
apply to this feeling the Ithuriel spear of God’s Word 
and Christ’s Example, we find it to be the bosom-adder 
of vanity again, lurking under the marigold of honour¬ 
able emulation. 

Again; a bosom sin, that it may the more easily 
escape detection and eradication, will wear to a super¬ 
ficial observer the mask of another sin. Indolence, for 
example, is a sin which carries with it in its train many 
omissions of duty, and specially of religious duty. 
Prayer or Scripture reading is omitted, or thrust away 
into a corner, and gone through perfunctorily, because 
we have not risen sufficiently early to give room for it. 
Things go cross during the day in consequence; irrita¬ 
bility of temper not soothed by God’s Blessing, or 
calmed by His Presence, throws our affairs into a 
tangle. We trace it all up to the omission of Prayer, 
of which we accuse ourselves. But the fault lies 
deeper. It was not really an indisposition to Prayer 
which kept us from it. It was indolence which really 
caused the mischief. 

One of the first properties, then, of the bosom sin 
with which it behoves us to be well acquainted, as the 
first step in the management of our spiritual warfare, 
is its property of concealing itself. In consequence 
of this property, it often happens that a man, when 
touched upon his weak point, answers that whatever 
other faults he may have, this fault at least is no part 
of his character. This circumstance, then, may furnish 
one clue to the discover}'; of whatever fault you feel 
that, if accused of it, you would be stung and nettled 
o 2 


196 


Fight wisely . [part 

by the apparent injustice of the charge, suspect your¬ 
self of that fault,—in that quarter very probably lies 
the black spot of the bosom sin. If the skin is in any 
part sensitive to pressure, there is probably mischief 
below the surface. 

What has been said, however, requires a little 
modification. In very strong characters, where the 
bias of the will is very decided, the ruling passion can 
hardly help disclosing itself to its possessor and to 
those around him. Sensuality, for example, and an 
insatiable ambition proclaim themselves aloud in the 
ears of the conscience, and this is St. Paul’s meaning 
when he says, “ Some men’s sins are open beforehand, 
going before to judgment.” But the far more usual 
case is that described in the words which follow, “ And 
some men they follow after.” Their sins, their weak 
points, do not transpire till after a long and familiar 
acquaintance with them; they are subtle and evasive, 
and sometimes intertwined with the fibres of what is 
good in them. 

It is to aid in bringing to light these secret sins that 
we make the following suggestions. 

First, then, praying heartily for the light of God’s 
Spirit to know thine own heart, observe and reason 
upon the results of Self-examination. When this most 
salutary exercise has been pursued for a certain time, 
you will observe that the same failures are constantly 
recurring, just as in Prayer the same wants daily recur; 
so that though the words of our prayers may be a 
little varied, (and it is more free and pleasant to vary 
them a little,) the things that we pray for are always 
substantially the same. The conclusion is almost 
inevitable that there is something serious beneath these 
constantly recurring failures. What is it ? In what 
one direction do all the phenomena point ? To selfish¬ 
ness ? or to indolence? or to vanity? or to want of 
sincerity and simplicity of character? or to the fear 
of man and human respect ? or to discontent ? or to 
worldly anxiety? Remember always, that in the 


197 


ni.] Fight wisely. 

symptom, and on the surface, it may look like none 
of these sins, and yet be really and fundamentally one 
of them. Say often while engaged in the search, 
“ Blessed Spirit, it is Thy office to convince of sin. 
Help me to seek the ground of my heart, and to drag 
into the light of day my hidden corruptions, for Jesus 
Christ’s sakeand your search, if conducted in this 
method and spirit, will not long be fruitless. 

Another plan may just be mentioned as helpful in the 
discovery of our bosom sin. Let us have our eye upon 
the occurrences which specially give us pain or pleasure: 
they will often be veriest trifles,—an expression of 
opinion, or sneer, a mere passing breath of human 
praise or censure, which goeth away, and cometh not 
again; but yet, be it what it may, if it touches us to 
the quick, the probabilities are, that by tracing it to 
its source we shall get to the quick of our character, to 
that sensitive quarter of it where the bosom-adder lies 
coiled up. Whence those tears of vexation ? whence 
that pang of annoyance? whence that gleam of sun¬ 
shine shooting across the heart on an otherwise gusty 
day ? Let us trace them to the principles from which 
they arose, and we shall have made some advance 
towards the desired discovery. 

When the discovery is made, the path of the spiritual 
combatant becomes clear, however arduous. Your 
fighting is to be no longer a flourishing of the arms in 
the air; it is to assume a definite form, it is to be a 
combat with the bosom sin. Appropriate mortifica¬ 
tions must be adopted, such as common sense will 
suggest, varying with the nature of the sin, and 
combined always with a heartfelt acknowledgment of 
our utter weakness, and with a silent but fervent 
prayer for the Grace of Almighty God. If indolence 
6e the besetting sin, we must watch against sloven¬ 
liness in little things, which is the mild form of the 
complaint; if selfishness, we must lay ourselves out to 
consider and gratify the wishes of others; if vanity, we 
must secretly bless God in our heart for all mortifica¬ 
tions of it, and particularly avoid the snare of speaking 


198 Fight wisely. [part 

humbly of ourselves ; if discontent, we must review, in 
our seasons of devotion, the many bright points of our 
position and seek our happiness in our work; if human 
respect, we must habituate ourselves to look at our 
actions as we shall look at them when the judgment of 
God upon them will be the only matter of importance; 
if sensuality, the discipline of fasting and abstinence 
from some innocent enjoyments must be used as far as 
health permits, Our Lord having implied this in the 
strongest possible manner when He said of a certain 
kind of evil spirits, “ This kind goeth not out but by 
prayer and fasting.” 

But the great matter to be attended to in each case 
is, that the whole forces of the will should be concen¬ 
trated for a time in that one part of the field in which 
the besetting sin has intrenched itself. Thus point 
and definiteness will be given to Christian effort, the 
importance of which has been already shown; we shall 
not lose our time, or waste our strength, as those who 
in fighting beat the air; and we shall find doubtless, 
that in supplanting the besetting sin, we shall be also 
weakening the vitality of subordinate faults of cha¬ 
racter, which cluster together round that one nucleus. 

Let me say, finally, that for each one of us, no 
business can be of more pressing moment, of more 
urgent importance, than this discovery of our besetting 
sin. The bosom sin in Grace exactly resembles a 
strong current in nature, which is setting full upon 
dangerous shoals and quicksands. If in your spiritual 
computation you do not calculate upon your besetting 
sin, upon its force, its ceaseless operation, and its 
artfulness, it will sweep you on noiselessly, and with 
every appearance of calm, but surely and effectually, to 
your ruin. So may we see a gallant ship leave the 
dock, fairly and bravely rigged, and with all her 
pennons flying; and the high sea, when she has cleft 
her way into it, is unwrinkled as the brow of child¬ 
hood, and seems to laugh with many a twinkling smile; 
and when night falls, the moonbeam dances upon the 
wave, and the brightness of the day has left a delicious 


199 


III.] Fight wisely. 

balminess behind it in the air, and the ship is anchored 
negligently and feebly, and all is then still save the 
gentle drowsy gurgling which tells that water is the 
element in which she floats; but in the dead of the 
night, the anchor loses its holds, and then the current, 
deep and powerful, bears her noiselessly whither it will; 
and in the morning the wail of desperation rises from 
her decks, for she has fallen on the shoal, and the 
disconsolateness of the dreary twilight, as the breeze 
springs with the daj'break, and with rude impact dashes 
her planks angrily against the rock, contrasts strangely 
with the comfort and peacefulness of the past evening. 
Such was the doom of Judas Iscariot. Blessed with 
the companionship of Our Lord Himself, dignified with 
the Apostleship, and adorned with all the high graces 
which that vocation involved, he was blinded to the 
undercurrent of his character, which set in the direction 
of the Mammon of unrighteousness, and which eventu¬ 
ally ensured for him an irretrievable fall. 

In conclusion, he who prays (as we should all do), 
“ Show me myself, Lord,” should take good care to 
add, lest self-knowledge plunge him into despair, “ Show 
me also Thyself” The course recommended in this 
Chapter, if honestly adopted, will probably lead us to 
the conclusion that our heart, which showed so fair 
without, is but a whited sepulchre, an Augean stable, 
full of corruptions and disorders, which it requires a 
moral Hercules to cleanse; but, blessed be God, the 
Love of Christ, and the Blood of Christ, and the Grace 
of Christ are stronger than ten thousand depravities 
and corruptions, though riveted down to the soul by 
the chain of evil habit. And when God exhibits to the 
soul His Love, as mirrored in those bleeding Wounds 
and the omnipotence of His free Grace, the energy 
which is felt there is great enough to crush any and 
every foe. The gentlest touch of God’s finger upon 
the soul is like the touch of the dawn upon the dark 
horizon. Birds waken and trill their notes, and 
leaves flutter in the fresh breeze, and there is an electric 
thrill of joy and hope through the whole domain of 


200 Of the Nature of Temptation. [part 

nature. My reader, thy whole soul shall leap up at 
that touch : holy affections shall lift up their hymn of 
praise within thee, and thy heart shall flutter with 
mingled awe and joy, and thou shalt know that thou 
hast found thy Lord. 


CHAPTER YI. 

OF THE NATURE OF TEMPTATION. 

“ Then was Jesus .... tempted of the devil .”— Matt. 
iv. 1. 

A devotional writer of the present day, in answer to 
the question, “ How are we to overcome temptations ? ” 
says, “ Cheerfulness is the first thing, cheerfulness is 
the second, and cheerfulness is the third.” It is very 
true. Faint heart never won any thing that was worth 
winning,—least of all a spiritual battle; whereas vic¬ 
tories have often been won against fearful odds by 
some news which have raised the spirits of the troops. 
Lightness and brightness of heart, and an unfailing 
elasticity of spirit, must characterize the good soldier of 
Jesus Christ, if he is to break his way to the heavenly 
country through the serried ranks of his spiritual foes. 

Having considered, then, in our last Chapter how we 
may meet temptation wisely, the question now arises,— 
an answer to which is scarcely less necessary to success, 
*—how we may meet it cheerfully. And it will be 
found, I apprehend, that a want of cheerfulness in 
meeting temptation is due to a misapprehension either 
of its nature, or of the support which may be expected 
in it, or of its salutary effects. 

We shall speak in this Chapter of its nature. 

It has been said of the eagle,—and if natural history 
will not bear it out, the piety with which the fable has 
been applied serves to reconcile us to the fiction,—that 
the parent bird practises the young to fiy by dropping 


lit.] Of the Nature of Temptation* 201 

them, when half-fledged, from her wings; and that, 
when the breeze is proving too strong for them, and 
their little pinions begin to flag and waver amid the 
resistance of the air, she swoops underneath them, 
having indeed never lost sight of them for an instant, 
and receives them again upon her own person, and sails 
on with them majestically as before. And the cir¬ 
cumstance, real or imagined, has been called in to 
illustrate that exquisite passage in the song of Moses: 
“ As an eagle stirretli up her nest, fluttereth over her 
young, spreadeth abroad her wings, taketh them, 
beareth them on her wings ; so the Lord alone did lead 
him, and there was no strange god with him.” 

At all events, whether the eagle disciplines her 
young or no in the exact manner described above,—and 
the text does not go the length of saying this,—we have 
in the supposed fact a most true representation of the 
way in which God proves His children, while they are 
yet spiritually fledgelings, and of the sense of danger, 
utter dismay, piteous cries for help, which such pro¬ 
bation involves. At the beginning of the spiritual life, 
when the first fervours of conversion are upon a man, 
when he has fully declared for Christ in his own mind, 
or, in other words, has realized in his own experience the 
conditions on which Baptism was granted, he is almost 
sure to dream of Heaven at once, and to overlook that 
long period of struggle, discomfort, and uncertainty 
through which he must pass on this side the grave, 
before he can attain a meet ness for glory. It is just as 
if an Israelite had dreamed of entering into the land 
flowing with milk and honey immediately after the 
Exodus, and had overlooked “ the waste, howling 
wilderness ” lying between Egypt and Canaan. That 
history is wonderfully typical; and beginners in reli¬ 
gion will do well to bear in mind the arrangement of 
its several parts. Egypt is a figure of the world, which 
lies under the dominion of Satan, the spiritual Pharaoh. 
The passage of the Red Sea is a figure of Baptism, 
which stands at the threshold of spiritual life. The 
passage of Jordan is a figure of death ; and the earthly 


202 Of tie Nature of Temptation. [paet 

Canaan is a figure of the heavenly. Of what, then, is 
the wilderness, with its arid sand, its barren sun- 
smitten crags, its fiery serpents, a picture? Of the 
Christian’s pilgrimage through the region of manifold 
temptations,—temptations which for the first time 
awake in all their power, like winds blowing from all 
the four quarters of heaven, as soon as he becomes an 
earnest Christian, or, as I have phrased it in other 
words, as soon as he realizes his Baptism. So long as 
he moved in the groove of formalism, and contented 
himself with a religion of stated ordinances, opposition 
was comparatively asleep ; but now, when he stirs him¬ 
self energetically in the right direction, it seems as if 
God had given His summons to the winds to sweep 
over the garden of the soul: “ Awake, 0 north wind; 
and come, thou south; blow upon my garden.” We 
are much distressed, like the eagle’s fledgelings, when 
she drops them. At every step, we discover some new 
corruption of the heart, some new force of sinful pas¬ 
sion, or habit, which baffles and beats us back. One 
besetting sin! we flattered ourselves we had but one ; 
but, lo! their name is legion. The effort which it is 
necessary to make, in order to maintain watchfulness 
for a day, fatigues us,—is quite too much for our 
strength. A crop of little trials springs up, which there 
is no sort of dignity in resisting or conquering, resulting 
perhaps from unevenness of temper in ourselves and 
those we live with,—teasing trials, though of no mag¬ 
nitude, just as flies tease us in the warm weather; they 
make us lose our equilibrium, and all for a trifle, which 
is very humbling. Then we secretly hoped to find a 
resource in Prayer, and looked perhaps to the evening 
hour of devotion as a period when we would sound the 
trumpet, and rally our scattered forces. But alas! we 
cannot pray without such distractions as render the 
prayer barren, dry, and apparently profitless. In 
meditation, we find it impossible to fasten our mind to 
the point, and seem to waste a great deal of time in 
making the effort. And then comes the thought, so 
perfectly familiar to all who have ever sought sincerely 


203 


III-] Of the Nature of Temptation. 

to give themselves unto Prayer,—a thought suspected, 
while admitted, like a foreigner upon whose movements 
the police are charged to have their eye, hut still 
admitted—that if Prayer cannot be offered with fluency 
and glow of feeling and satisfaction to our own minds, it 
had better not be offered at all. And when the faldstool 
is abandoned in a fit of peevishness and disgust, the 
struggle is over for the day; it is as when the weak 
pinion of the young bird drops motionless by its side, 
and a steady descent thenceforth commences. The 
same feelings of disappointment and despondency, on a 
larger scale, corresponding to the magnitude of the 
occasion, beset us frequently after receiving the Holy 
Communion. We looked for the strengthening and 
refreshing of our souls, and really wound ourselves up 
to as much devotion as we were capable of; but, on the 
contrary, the whole of our inner man seems to collapse 
with the effort, and to lie open more than ever to the 
assaults of indolence, softness, levity, and dissipation of 
mind. In a word, we are made to discover that the 
harder we struggle against the Devil, and the flesh, the 
harder they struggle against us; according to that pro¬ 
found word of the Apostle’s, “ The flesh lusteth against 
the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh.” 

Now it is not the business of the present Chapter 
to discuss at length the supports of the tempted soul. 
These are matters for after consideration. Yet I can¬ 
not help so far forestalling this part of the subject,, as to 
remark that the eagle, watching her young with keen 
eye, and sweeping beneath them with outstretched 
wing, as she sees them faint with exhaustion,—that Our 
Lord walking on the waters, and stretching forth His 
hand to Peter when He saw him sinking,—that these 
similitudes give the exactly true idea of the relations 
between Christ and the tempted soul. If thou hast not 
yet finally abandoned the struggle; if thou hast again 
picked up thy resolve, and taken heart for a new 
resistance,—why is it ? This recovery, this pause in 
the downward career, was not of thyself. It was the 
Divine Eagle, swooping beneath her young, as, drooping 


204 


Of the Nature of Temptation. [rAET 

and baffled, they commenced a downward course; it 
was the Lord stretching forth His saving hand, and 
catching the poor disciple before he was altogether 
engulfed. The mere fact, than which nothing can be 
more certain, that He is looking on with keenest 
interest, while humbling thee, and proving thee, to see 
what is in thine heart;—that He is near at hand to 
give succour when He sees the right moment to have 
arrived, a little above thee in the sky, or close at thy 
side upon the billow;—that His Omnipotence,His Love, 
His Wisdom, are all engaged in administering the 
temptation, in meting it out, in adjusting it to thy 
strength, in not allowing it to proceed to undue lengths 
—this of itself should prove a cordial to thy heart, and 
invigorate thee to pursue the course on which thou hast 
entered. 

But a great deal of the distress, which many persons 
under temptations experience, arises from their not 
understanding the nature of temptation. In the early 
stages of spiritual life, more especially, persons often 
flounder from having crude and ill-defined notions on 
the subject. They have a certain vague idea that peace 
and quietness of mind are essential to a right state; 
and as temptation, of course, destroys peace and quiet¬ 
ness, and makes turbid the waters of the soul, they 
conclude that temptation indicates a wrong state. 
Hence they have a feeling of guilt connected with 
temptation, which adds very much to the ordinary dis¬ 
comforts of it. They need to be instructed that tempta¬ 
tion is not sin; and that not until the will consents 
to it,—not until it is wilfully entertained and cherished, 
—does temptation become sin. Nay, we may go further. 
Temptation is not always even a sign of a sinful nature. 
It is quite possible that its appeal may be made to 
feelings, which in themselves are perfectly pure and 
innocent. Our Lord’s temptation is a proof of this. 
We are told, on the one hand, that He was “tempted 
in all points like as we areand we are told, on the 
other, that He was “without sin ;**—not merely with¬ 
out sins , but “ without sinf that is, without the sinful 


205 


hi.] Of the Nature of Temptation. 

tendency or principle. Yet that His trials, both in the 
wilderness, at the commencement of His ministry, and 
in the Garden of Gethsemane at its close, were most 
agonizing, there can be no question. There was a will 
in our Blessed Lord, as there is in us, which shrunk 
from every form of physical and mental suffering. 
Satan had access to His imagination, and filled it with 
pictures of the ease, comfort, dignity, power which He 
might enjoy, if He would only abandon the great 
project of Human Redemption, sketched out before the 
world began in the counsels of the Eternal Three. 
There was an inward voice which seconded Peter’s 
words, when he dissuaded from suffering and death, and 
counselled softer things. Our Lord knew whose voice it 
was, and that Peter was only the mouthpiece who gave 
it articulation; and, accordingly, He turns upon the 
Apostle with the sternest word of reproof which ever 
escaped His lips, “ Get thee behind Me, Satan ; thou art 
an offence ” (snare, stumbling-block) “ unto Me ; for 
thou savourest not the things that be of God, but those 
that be of men.” 

But is it doubted whether, with sinful men like our¬ 
selves, temptations can be addressed to us, which shall 
not correspond with any corrupt and depraved feeling, 
but shall fasten only upon some innocent principle ? 
The trial of Abraham’s faith is a case in point. He 
was commanded by God to slay his son. The tempta¬ 
tion was severe just in proportion as Abraham’s 1 
parental affection was strong; it was this affection, a 
pure and innocent one surely, which was made the in¬ 
strument of the temptation. And, to come down to 
our own circumstances, there is no difficulty in imagin¬ 
ing the case of a man tempted by hunger to steal food, 
or pressed to do the same thing by the necessities of 
those dependent on him ; or of another, tempted by his 
very faith in God’s love and goodness to presumption. 
Temptation then, and our accessibility to it, is not 
always a proof even of a sinful nature. Sometimes, of 
course, it does prove this ; for such disorders have crept 
into the human heart with the Fall, that its great 


206 Of the Nature of Temptation. [part 

original affections have to a great extent lost their 
character by fastening upon wrong ends;—anger has 
become irritability and peevishness, fear has degenerated 
into human respect, forethought has corrupted into 
anxiety, and generous emulation has soured into dis¬ 
content ; and though anger, fear, forethought, and 
emulation be in their raw material no sins, we cannot 
say as much of their degeneracies. Still, even where a 
man is tempted by means of these corrupt and dege¬ 
nerate feelings, though it may be an evidence of that 
“ infection of nature, which doth remain, yea, in them 
that are regenerated yea, though he may be hedged 
in and sore beset by them on all sides, he still commits 
no sin, unless his will in some measure consents to or 
encourages them. And as to the guilt arising from 
the corruption of our nature, it has been the constant 
doctrine of the Church, that it is removed by the 
Sacrament of Baptism, when that Sacrament has been 
realized, in the individual’s experience, by Faith. 
“ There is now no condemnation,” says our Ninth 
Article, “ for them that believe and are baptized,” 
though “ the Apostle doth confess that concupiscence 
and lust hath of itself the nature of sin.” 

See now, tempted soul, whether this consideration 
applied to thine own case, may not somewhat lighten 
thy burden. You are beset by distractions in Prayer 
and Meditation. Well; distractions are no sin; nay, 
if struggled against patiently and cheerfully, they shall 
be a jewel in thy crown. Did you go through with 
the religious exercise as well as you could, not willingly 
harbouring the distraction or consenting to it? In 
this case, the prayer was quite as acceptable, as if it 
had been accompanied with those high-flown feelings of 
fervour and sensible delight which God sometimes gives, 
and sometimes, for our better discipline and humilia¬ 
tion, withholds. Nay, may we not say, that it was 
much more acceptable ? Do not the Scriptures give 
us reason to think that prayer, persevering amidst 
difficulties and humiliations, prayer clinging close to 
Christ, despite His rebuffs, is more acceptable than the 


207 


IIT -] Of the Nature of Temptation. 

prayer which has its way smooth before it, and whose 
wings are filled by the favouring gale ? What else are 
we to learn from the acceptance of Bartimseus’s peti¬ 
tion, who cried so much the more, when the multitude 
rebuked him that he should hold his peace ? What 
else from the commendation and recompense of the 
Syrophoenician’s faith? Wouldst thou know the 
avenue to the Saviour’s heart, when thou art driven 
from His footstool by manifold discouragements, by 
deadness, numbness, insensibility,—and He Himself 
seems to cover Himself with a cloud, so that thy prayer 
may not pass through? Confess thyself a dog, and 
plead for such crumbs as are the dog’s allowed and 
recognized portion. Call to mind the many times 
when thou hast turned a deaf ear to Christ’s expos¬ 
tulations with thee through thy conscience. Reflect 
that thou hast deserved nothing but repulses, and to 
have all thy drafts upon Him dishonoured; and yet 
cling to His Sacred Feet, while thou sinkest thus low 
before Him, resolving not to let Him go, except He 
bless thee; and this act of humility and perseverance 
shall make thy lame and halting Prayer far more 
acceptable to the Divine Majesty than if it sailed to 
Heaven, with all the fluency of conscious inspiration, 
like Balaam’s prophecy of old, which was prefaced, un- 
happy soul! by the assertion of his gifts. 

Again; mere feelings of irritability, indolence, im¬ 
purity, collapse, weariness, partisanship, unkindness, 
suspiciousness, and so forth, are not in themselves sins. 
They must be consented to and harboured before they 
can become so. Just as musicians prelude their pieces 
by a flourish, so Satan occasionally runs his fingers 
over the key-board of the mind, awakening all these 
feelings, in their turn, and confounding us by the con¬ 
sciousness of the amount of evil which there is within. 
But there is still no sin, so long as we reject and re¬ 
nounce these feelings, and thrust them out by prayer 
and instant application to some useful work. Our 
minds may be rendered uncomfortable by them, or, 
as the Apostle Peter phrases, we may be “ in heaviness 


208 Of the Nature of Temptation. [paht 

through manifold temptationsbut heaviness and 
discomfort are no sins. Nay, heaviness of spirit, 
resulting from temptation, is the Cross of the Garden 
laid on us by Him who bore it in Gethsemane ; and it 
is a great honour and privilege to be called upon, like 
the three chosen ones of the chosen, to come and watch 
with Him for one short hour. 

Yes ! multitudinous temptations are, indeed, a great 
dignity, as helping to assimilate us to the image of 
Christ; and, if we comport ourselves well under them, 
a great means of spiritual advancement. When a hard 
winter sets in, and the earth is covered with a mantle 
of snow, and each little knot and spray in the hedgerow 
is encrusted with icicles, vegetation seems to be killed, 
and every green thing blighted. But it is not so. The 
genial forces of the earth are driven inward, and work¬ 
ing deep in her bosom. The snow mantle is doing for 
her what the fur mantle does for the human frame,— 
concentrating and preserving the vital heat within. So 
it is in Temptation: the time of temptation is a 
cheerless and dreary hour, when every thing seems at 
a standstill, and the spiritual pulse can no longer be 
heard, it beats so faintly to the outward touch ; but 
if the will is faithful and true, and the soul patient, the 
life is really concentrating itself, and rallying its forces 
within. The cheerless outward aspect is nothing:— 
there are hidden agencies at work, which in due time 
shall bring out the full bloom and redolence of a 
spiritual spring. There have been moderate Christians, 
there have been shallow Christians, without very much 
temptation; but there never yet was a saintly 
Christian, never yet one who pressed to the higher 
summits of the spiritual life, never one, whose banner 
bore the strange device “ Excelsior,” who was not made 
the victim of manifold temptations. There are many 
good men in the world who seem to live in a continual 
light gaiety and sunshine of heart, and yet whom it 
would be quite wrong and wide of the mark to reckon 
irreligious men; they pay a very unfeigned attention 
to the concerns of Religion, are in high esteem both 


III.] Fight with, the Weapon of Distrust in Self. 209 

for kindness and prudence, are counted examples in 
their social circle, and are in their way devout,—and all 
this without seeming to find much difficulty and im¬ 
pediment. If they are what they appear to be, they 
are not deep men; and while we may not for a mo¬ 
ment judge them otherwise than charitably, we need 
not for a moment envy them. When God besets the 
soul with temptations, He is calling it to something 
high in spiritual enterprise, and great in spiritual 
attainment. Let us recognize it as being so, and pray 
earnestly not to frustrate the vocation by the per¬ 
versity and sluggishness of our own wills. 

“ My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into 
divers temptations; knowing this, that the trying of 
your faith worketh patience. But let patience have 
her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, 
wanting nothing.” 


CHAPTER VII. 

FIGHT WITH THE WEAPON OF DISTRUST IN 
SELF. 

“ And in the fourth watch of the night Jesus went unto 
them, walking on the sea. And when the disciples 
saw Sim walking on the sea they icere troubled, say¬ 
ing, It is a spirit: and they cried out for fear. But 
straightway Jesus spake unto them, saying, Be oj 
good cheer; it is I; be not afraid. And Deter 
answered Ilim and said, lord, if it be Thou, bid me 
come unto Thee on the water. And Se said, Come. 
And when Deter was come down out of the ship, he 
walked on the water, to go to Jesus. But when he 
saw the wind boisterous, he was afraid; and begin¬ 
ning to sink, he cried, saying, Lord, save me. And 
immediately Jesus stretched forth Sis hand, and 
caught him, and said unto him, O thou of little faith, 
wherefore didst thou doubt ?' n — Matt. xiv. 25—31. 

The harmony with themselves of the characters de¬ 
scribed in Scripture is a proof that these characters 

p 



210 Fight with the Weapon of , [part 

really existed,—an internal evidence in favour of the 
authenticity of the Bible. It would he very difficult 
for an impostor, for example, to frame two such in¬ 
cidents as St. Peter’s failure in his attempt to walk 
upon the waters, and St. Peter’s denial of his Master, 
both exhibiting precisely the same weak point in the 
Apostle’s character under circumstances totally different. 
Or, had he framed them, he would not have thrown them 
out, as St. Matthew has done, far apart from one another 
in the narrative without any remark to connect them ; 
but would have given his reader some hint that, if com¬ 
pared and set side by side, they would be seen to have, 
under great diversities, a similarity of principle. As it 
is, the coincidence is too subtle to have been designed: 
and we cannot otherwise account for it, than by sup¬ 
posing St. Peter to have been an actually existing man, 
whose sayings and doings are recorded ; and the same 
points of character are constantly coming out in the 
same man, whatever the variety of circumstances in 
which he is placed. 

But when pointed out, the coincidence is full of in¬ 
terest. It is interesting to see St. Peter’s boast of 
attachment to Christ, and St. Peter’s fall both rehearsed 
beforehand, as it were, to a private audience, when 
comparatively little was at stake. The Apostle was 
enthusiastically attached to his Master, and conscious 
of the strength of his attachment. He was also bold 
with all the boldness of chivalry, presumptuous, and 
self-reliant. These latter qualities procured for him a 
tremendous fall in the great crisis of the apprehension 
of Christ; but they had procured for him already a fall 
in a previous lesser crisis. Then, too, as just before his 
denial, he had virtually professed his faith in Christ, 
and his attachment to Christ, and had challenged 
a trial of that faith and that attachment: “ Lord, 
if it be Thou, bid me come unto Thee on the water.” 
Then, too, he had gone on well, and in pursuance 
of his professions, up to a certain time, walking 
on the waters for a few paces, just as on the later 
occasion he drew his sword and smote a servant of the 


211 


Ilr 0 Distrust in Self. 

High Priest, and cut off his ear. Then, too, he had 
failed after the expiration of a time, and exposed him¬ 
self to the remarks of his less enterprising colleagues, 
as being unable to go through with that which he had 
begun: when he saw the wind boisterous, his heart 
failed him, and he was afraid, and began to sink. Thus 
both his trial, and his shortcoming in trial, had been 
practised, if I may so say, beforehand. 

Now here at once a thought meets us, very necessary 
to be dwelt upon, in discussing the subject of Tempta¬ 
tions. Temptations, then, are not always of the same 
magnitude, or on the same scale. Occasionally only, 
in the course of a lifetime, some great crisis comes to 
approve the stedfastness of our Christian Principle. 
There are inducements to form a connexion which is 
doubtful, or to desert a right cause which is becoming 
unpopular, or to be lenient in condemning evil, or to 
hazard a crooked policy for a great gain or a high dis¬ 
tinction. These great opportunities, however, occur but 
seldom. Days and days wear away, each of them 
formative of our character,—each of them leaving upon 
that character the visible stamp and impress of the 
way in which it has been spent,—which are unmarked 
by any momentous trial, and when our conduct is in no 
sense before Society. These days furnish nothing more 
than the petty temptations to indolence, vanity, temper, 
selfishness, loquacity, and so forth, which are never at 
any time absent from us, and from which no sort of 
life, whether public or private, can claim exemption. 
Yet think not, disciple of Christ, that these petty 
temptations are to be despised. It is in these minia¬ 
ture trials that God rehearses His actors behind the 
scenes, before He brings them forward on the public 
stage, thoroughly trained and fitted to play their parts. 
Peter’s part was rehearsed upon the waves, under the 
eyes of his kind Master and his colleagues, before he 
was called to play it in the High Priest’s palace, under 
hostile criticism, and amidst the retainers of the party 
then in power; and had not Peter failed in his re¬ 
hearsal, he would probably not have failed on the 


212 Fight with the Weapon of [paht 

more critical occasion. It is a mark of a shallow or 
superficial mind to think lightly of little temptations 
or of little sins. Even judging according to mere 
magnitude, the stress of many little trials, constantly 
harassing us day after day, may be as severe an exercise 
of Christian patience as one tremendous trial, whose 
duration and intensity are limited. A shower of needle 
arrows—such as those with which the Lilliputians 
assailed Gulliver in the fable—steadily poured in upon 
us day by day would be more trying than one hour’s 
exposure to darts of an ordinary size. And to do 
battle all day long for years with temper or vanity may 
argue, in the sight of God, as great stedfastness of 
principle, as the endurance of the agonies of a martyr, 
which run their course, and are terminated before 
sundown. But character transpires in all circum¬ 
stances, small as well as great: and if, by God’s grace, 
character stake a good shape in the .minor circum¬ 
stances of life, it is likely to retain that shape when it 
is more keenly sifted. Never yet was a man true to 
Christian principle in his own little circle, who became 
untrue to it when placed in a position of trust. 

And there is yet one other reason which should make 
us highly esteem our daily small temptations, and very 
much study our conduct in them. They are a far 
better discipline of humility than sublimer trials. We 
get no credit for meeting them well. No one but 
those most intimate with us—and not always even 
they—knows how we meet them. It flatters our 
vanity to demean ourselves urell in a great crisis ; but 
there is no dignity in resisting sins of temper or of the 
tongue. And yet, while there is no dignity in the 
thing achieved, there is great difficulty in the achieve¬ 
ment. Now humility, if genuine, is the sweetest flower 
which grows in the garden of God; and any oppor¬ 
tunities of cultivating it should be highly prized and 
carefully improved. Welcome, then, little Temptations, 
if they discipline us in this lovely grace! These, if 
met in faith and love, are all that is needed to mature 
our characters for glory,— 


213 


Distrust in Self. 

“ The trivial round, the common task, 

Will furnish all we ought to ask, 

Room to deny ourselves,—a road 
To bring us daily nearer God.” 

We have spoken of humility. The incident of St. 
Peter’s history, on which we have been commenting, 
brings out strongly his want of it, and his failure in 
consequence. He failed on this as on the later 
occasion, just because he felt strong in himself. He 
was conscious of his faith in Christ, and love for Christ, 
and felt that they were strong enough to carry him 
through any thing. It is very remarkable too—and 
we shall miss much of the instruction conveyed by the 
incident if we fail to remark—that the grace in which 
he breaks down is his own characteristic grace. St. 
Peter was a bold man, an enterprising man, a chivalrous 
man, a generous man; it was his boldness, enterprise, 
chivalry, and generosity, which, sanctified by Grace, 
were hereafter to carry him through fire and water in 
the Service of his Master. Yet in both cases, strange 
to say, his fall exhibits him as timorous and pusillani¬ 
mous,—characteristics quite opposite to those which he 
really had. He, a hardy Galilaean fisherman, quails at 
the bluster of the elements; he is cowed, and lowers 
his colours at a question from a maid-servant who kept 
the door. It was the same with other eminent saints 
and servants of God. Moses, who was very meek 
above all the men that were upon the face of the earth, 
was yet debarred from entering Canaan, because on one 
occasion he lost his equanimity, and spake unadvisedly 
with his lips. Abraham, the father of the faithful, 
could not believe that God would protect him at 
Pharaoh’s court, if he took the straightforward path 
of confessing that Sarah was his wife. St. John, the 
Apostle of Love, was for calling dowm fire from heaven 
upon Samaritans who refused a reception to his Master. 
All these broke down in their strong points, not in 
their weak ones. 

And the lesson which we derive from the failures of 
all is one and the same—the extreme brittleness and 


mo 


214 Fight with the Weapon of [part 

frailty of the human will, even in those points in which 
it seemed most to he relied upon. St. Peter was not 
aware of this brittleness ; he had to be instructed in it 
by very painful and humbling falls. He felt strong in 
himself, able to walk upon the waves, able to do and 
dare in his Master’s service; and consciousness of our 
own strength is a sure forerunner of a grievous fall. 
It was this consciousness which made him desirous to 
approve his faith and love, by walking upon the waters 
to meet his Master,—which made him court trial. 
And to court trial is always a symptom which indicates 
something unsound in the heart of the person courting 
it, some self-reliance which mars his faith. We are 
taught to pray, “ Lead us not into temptation,”—a 
prayer which can only be offered sincerely by those who 
feel their own utter weakness. But those, who, like 
St. Peter, long for an opportunity of approving the 
stedfastness of their faith, virtually pray, “ Lead us 
into temptation.” And then, when led into it, and 
when it pleases God to make experiment of them, they 
fail. 

Then here we come across the first thought, which 
we desire to impress upon our readers in this Chapter, 
in connexion with Temptations. Self-trust, in however 
small a degree, is a sure secret of failure: and if 
hitherto we have failed again and again in meeting 
Temptation, if our best resolves hitherto have been 
baffled and beaten back, it will be well to examine 
whether there be not some particle of self-reliance 
lurking at the bottom of our hearts. It may lurk 
there when we least suspect it. Very often it requires 
some time and consideration to bring it to light: very 
often it assumes a specious and plausible shape. For 
instance, after our falls we find that we are bitterly 
disappointed with ourselves, disgusted with our own 
folly and weakness, and thrown out of heart altogether 
for future efforts. There is something in this which 
looks well, but it will not bear probing. Why should 
we be disappointed with self, unless we expected some¬ 
thing from self,—thought secretly that self might be in 


215 


in.] Distrust in Self. 

a measure depended upon ? God is teaching us by our 
falls ; but oh, how slow we are to learn the lesson that 
no amount of evil in ourselves ought to surprise us, 
that we ought to be prepared for any thing in that 
quarter, for any shortcoming in Grace, for any outbreak 
of sin! The heart is a running issue of evil; and it 
is not to be wondered at that the issue bursts forth 
occasionally. If a man secretly says in himself, “ I am 
not yet as bad as that,”—“ I have it not in me to be 
so untrue to grace, so faithless to Christ as that,”— 
he still thinks he has a certain reserve or strong¬ 
hold of virtue in his own bosom, on which he can fall 
back. This is self-reliance, and he must be beaten 
out of it before he can succeed against temptation, 
according to that glorious Christian paradox of the 
Apostle, “When I am weak” (that is, thoroughly 
imbued with a sense of my own weakness), “then am 
I strong;” and it is wonderful how this profound 
humility connects itself with that elasticity and joy¬ 
ousness of spirit without which a successful warfare 
against temptation is out of the question. Constant 
disappointment is very wearying to the mind, and sure 
to break the energies of a man; but if he has flung 
himself down so low that he cannot be disappointed, if 
he has fairly given up his own heart as incorrigible— 
which indeed it is—and is looking in quite another 
quarter for the requisite strength, it is surprising with 
what cheerfulness and alacrity he picks himself up after, 
his falls, wonderful what a bound and buoyancy there 
is in the spirit which can truly say to Christ, and only 
to Him, “ All my fresh springs are in Thee.” 

Yes; “all my fresh springs are in Thee!” Self¬ 
distrust alone, though we must always fail without it, 
will never by itself secure victory; the soul which 
has made the discovery that it has nothing in itself to 
hang upon, must hang upon Christ. This is strongly 
and strikingly brought out in the narrative on which 
we have been commenting. It was not till St. Peter’s 
eye was caught by the fury of the elements, by the 


21G J Fight with the Weapon of [part 

raving wind, by the boisterous surge ; it was not until 
his attention was diverted from the Saviour, that lie 
began to sink. Had he steadily kept Christ in sight 
all through, it might have gone well with him to the 
end. So long as he was in the ship, his thoughts were 
engaged with the majesty and power of his Lord, who 
could even walk on the waves; now that he is in the 
midst of the trial which he had courted, his mind 
wanders to his own danger, and his faith is shaken. 

Now here comes out another point of holy policy in 
the combat with temptations. It is wise, especially 
when they are at their height, never to look them full 
in the face. To consider their suggestions, to debate 
with them, to fight it out with them inch by inch in a 
listed field, is, generally speaking, a sure way to fail. 
Turn the mind to Christ at the first assault, and keep 
it fixed there with pertinacity, until this tyranny 
be overpast. Consider Him, if thou wilt, after the 
picture here presented to us. Think of Him as One 
who walked amidst Temptations without ever being 
submerged by them, as of One who by His Grace can 
enable His followers to do the same. Think of Him as 
calm, serene, firm, majestic amidst the most furious 
agitations and turbulences of nature, and as One who 
can endue thy heart with a similar stedfastness. 
Think of Him as interceding for His Church on the 
Mount of Glory, as watching them while they toil in 
rowing against the adverse influences which beset them 
round about upon the sea of life, as descending on the 
wings of love to their relief. Think of Him as stand¬ 
ing close by thee in thy immediate neighbourhood, 
with a hand outstretched for thy support as soon as 
ever thou lookest towards Him. Remember that it is 
not you who are to conquer , hut lie who is to conquer 
in you; and accordingly, “ even as the eyes of servants 
wait upon the hand of their masters, and as the eyes of 
a maiden upon the hand of her mistress, even so let 
your eyes wait upon Him, until He have mercy upon 
you.” No man ever fell in this attitude of expectant 
faith; he falls because he allows himself to look at the 


217 


iii.] Distrust in Se7f. 

temptation, to be fascinated by its attractiveness, or 
terrified by its strength. One of the greatest Sermons 
in our language is on the expulsive power of a new 
affection, and the principle laid down in that Sermon 
admits of application to the circumstances of which we 
are speaking. There can be, of course, no temptation 
without a certain correspondence of the inner man 
with the immediate occasion of the trial. Now do you 
desire to weaken this correspondence, to cut it off, and 
make it cease ? Till the mind and heart with another 
affection, and let it be the affection for Christ crucified. 
Thus will the energies of the soul, which will not 
suffice for two strong actions at the same time, be 
drawn off into another quarter; and besides, the great 
Enemy, seeing that his assaults only provoke you to 
a continuous exercise of Faith, will soon lay down his 
arms ; and you shall know experimentally the truth of 
those words, “ Above all, taking the shield of faith, 
wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery 
darts of the wicked one.” There can be no doubt 
that this counsel of looking only upon Christ in the 
hour of temptation will be most needed (if our con¬ 
sciousness and mind be spared us to the end) in the 
critical hour when flesh and heart are failing, and when 
Satan for the last time is permitted to assault our 
faith. We can well imagine that in that hour doubts 
will be busily instilled of Christ’s love and power, 
suggestions of our own unfaithfulness to Him in 
times past, and questions as to whether He will now 
receive us. The soul will then possibly be scared by 
terrors, as the disciples in the boat were scared with 
the thoughts of a phantom, and will tremble in appre¬ 
hension of being thrust out from the frail bark of the 
body into the darkness, uncertainty, insecurity of a 
new and untried element. If such should be the 
experience of any one who reads these pages, let him 
take with him this one counsel of safety, to look only 
to Christ, and to perish, if he perishes, at His feet; 
let us refuse to look in any other quarter, let us 
steadily turn away our eyes from the doubts, the 


218 Fight watchfully. [pact 

painful recollections, the alarming anticipations which 
the enemy is instilling. We are not proposing to 
be saved on the ground of any righteousness in our¬ 
selves, or in any other way than by free Grace, as 
undone sinners ; then let those words be the motto 
of the tempest-tossed soul, “ My soul hangeth upon 
Thee ; Thy right hand hath upholden me;” ay, and 
let it be the motto now , in hours when lesser trials 
assault us. Let us make proof even now of the 
invincibility of the shield of faith, that we may bring 
it forth in that hour with greater confidence in its 
power to shield us. And the hand of an Infinite 
Love shall uphold us in the last, as it has done in 
previous ordeals, and the prayer shall be answered, 
which we have offered so often over the grave of 
departed friends: 

“ Thou knowest, Lord, the secrets of our hearts; 
shut not Thy merciful ears to our prayer; but spare 
us, Lord most holy, 0 God most mighty, 0 holy and 
merciful Saviour, Thou most worthy Judge eternal, 
suffer us not, at our last hour, for any pains of death, 
to fall from Thee.” “ My flesh and my heart faileth ; 
but God is the strength of my heart, and my portion 
for ever.” “ 0 thou of little faith, wherefore didst 
thou doubt ? ” 


CHAPTER VIII. 

TIGHT WATCHFULLY. 

“ Keep thy heart with all diligence: for out of it are 
the issues of life .” —Phot. iv. 23. 

Our translators of the Bible, in their attempt to 
maintain idiom, have sometimes sacrificed vigour. 
“Keep thy heart with all diligence ” is a feeble 
expression in comparison of that which you find in 
the margin: “ Keep thy heart above all keeping .”— 
“Above all keeping.” If you would keep the apple 



219 


in.] Fight watchfully. 

of the eye from injury, not only as a most sensitive 
part of the frame and one most liable to derangement, 
hut as the organ of the highest of all the senses, a 
sense for the loss of which not thousands of gold and 
silver could compensate; much more keep thy heart, 
so delicate a thing as it is, so susceptible of complete 
disorganization from the mere dust of an evil thought, 
so precious too, as being that organ of the moral 
nature, by which you discern and apprehend Divine 
truth. If you would keep in a casket, under lock and 
key, a jewel fit for a monarch’s diadem, on the purchase 
of which a nation’s wealth has been expended; much 
more keep thy heart, for whose allegiance such an 
infinite price was paid, whose sympathies and affections 
the Son of God bled, and agonized, and died to win, 
and which is destined to be a jewel in His Redemption- 
crown. If you would keep as a most sacred deposit 
the last token of a dying parent’s love ; much more 
keep thy heart, which Christ, the Everlasting Father, 
having purchased it with His own Blood, bequeathed 
to thee for thy custody. If thou wouldst keep some 
outlying fortress, which is the key of a beleaguered 
position, placing sentinels at every approach, and 
bidding them challenge every one who passes in and 
out; much more keep thy heart, which is the key of 
the character and conduct, and between which and the 
outer world a busy correspondence is continually being 
kept up. Finally,—for our precept is so worded that 
it might be a medical, as well as a moral one,—if thou 
wouldst keep thy bodily heart, as the centre of the 
system of the body, as the source of motion and 
animation to the whole frame, as the golden bowl 
which sends forth the living jets of the blood to the 
extremities, whence with freshening, recreating force 
they fall again into the basin;—if thou wouldst shield 
this part in war, covering it with the breastplate, or 
with hauberk’s twisted mail; much more keep thy 
moral or spiritual heart, which is the source of moral 
life and whence the impulses, affections, sympathies, 
desires, go forth towards the objects or persons around 


220 


Fight watchfully. [part 

thee, and return again with new life into thy bosom. 
Ay, if there be a thing in this world, which should be 
kept,—which should be the object of unsleeping, 
anxious guardianship, it is this heart;—“ Keep thy 
heart above all keeping; for out of it are the issues of 
life.” 

We are now upon the subject of the resistance 
which the Christian, in his daily life, has to offer to 
Temptation. We have seen in previous Chapters 
that he must meet Temptation wisely, cheerfully, 
self-distrustfully, and with trust in Christ. And we 
now come to a counsel no less necessary in order to 
ensure success, namely, that he must meet it watch¬ 
fully. “Watch and pray,” says our Blessed Lord 
Himself, “ that ye enter not into temptation.” 

It must be evident, even to Reason, that without 
this precaution of watchfulness over the heart, every 
other counsel for resisting temptation must be of no 
avail. This will be seen in a moment from one of 
the illustrations which has been already employed. 
The heart is the key of the entire spiritual position. 
Carry the heart, and you carry the man. Not however 
that the dangers of the heart are merely external, 
like the dangers of a fortress. The world and the 
Devil would not be such formidable foes, if they had 
nothing to correspond with from within; hut our 
Saviour teaches us that there are many traitors in 
the camp, with whom they can and do correspond. 
“ From within, out of the heart of men, proceed evil 
thoughts, adulteries, fornications, murders, thefts, 
covetousness, wickedness, deceit, lasciviousness, an evil 
eye, blasphemy, pride, foolishness: all these evil things 
come from within, and defile the man.” 

It is also to be noticed, in forming an estimate 
of our danger, that the exports and imports of the 
heart are exceedingly numerous. What a fertility 
of thought, sentiment, impression, feeling, is there 
in the heart of a single man! It is like an inn or 
hostelry;—there are every instant fresh arrivals and 


lit.] Fight watchfully. 221 

fresh departures. There are a thousand doors of access 
to the heart,—conversation, books, incidents, means of 
grace, all the five senses; and passengers are busily 
thronging in and passing out at every door. Some 
of these passengers are bent on doing mischief, on 
soiling the chambers, and throwing them into disorder; 
some on doing good, and setting things to right; 
some are questionable; some, though much fewer 
than is generally supposed, indifferent. Now will any 
precaution, short of watchfulness over the persons 
allowed to enter, avail to keep such an house in order ? 
No! we must require testimonials that those who 
claim admittance are respectable. The sentinels must 
be at their posts in the fortress, and demand the 
password from all who cross their beat; or the 
general will lay his schemes in vain, and the garrison 
will be well victualled in vain, and the poor soldiers 
will fight and bleed in vain. Bravery, and wisdom, 
and good supplies, will all be of no avail, unless active 
steps are taken, to see that traitors are not prowling 
about the camp, ready to fire the fortress, to open 
the gates, or to suggest treacherous counsel. As a 
matter of course, to dismiss the figure, unless we 
keep a guard and narrow outlook upon our hearts, 
we may find at any moment that we have “ entered 
into temptation,” that is, have entertained it with 
the will, that we are fairly launched on the slippery 
incline which leads, it may be, to a very grievous fall. 
What various and rapid movements take place in 
our minds in the midst of a warm and animated 
conversation! Can there be any security for us unless 
we watch and question them as they arise ? This 
moment our vanity is piqued; at another a desire 
to say something smart at the expense of charity, or 
something witty at the expense of reverence, or some¬ 
thing entertaining at the expense of truth, or some¬ 
thing coarse at the expense of purity, runs away with 
us, and we are far on our road towards sin,—if indeed 
we have not already arrived there,—before we can 
pick up the rein and check the steed. Then we are 


222 


Fight watchfully. [part 

provoked not to be fair in argument, but factious; 
then, perhaps, to worldly compliance with the opinion 
of the great, the popular, the many; then, on the 
other hand, we are prompted to speak the truth 
ungraciously, without courtesy or consideration for 
others, apologizing to ourselves and our friends for it, 
by saying that “ we cannot be hypocrites,” that “ we 
always say what we think.” How shall we keep our 
foot free of so many snares ? 

But is solitude less dangerous, in our spiritual war¬ 
fare, than company ? It might be so, doubtless, if the 
world were the only source of temptations, if they did 
not arise equally from self and from the Devil. But it 
is clear that, from the two latter foes, who beset the 
Christian no less than the former, we cannot be safe 
any more in solitude than in company. Self is with us, 
and the Devil may be with us too, in the closet, as well 
as in the social gathering. Castle-building, with all its 
odious train of self-flatteries and self-complacencies; the 
fretting over any little wound which our vanity may 
have received,until it begins to fester and look serious; 
the mental aggravation of a slight or insult, by allowing 
the thoughts to dwell oTr it, until it fills the field of 
view in a manner perfectly absurd; the discomposure 
about worldly cares, which is always increased by soli¬ 
tary pondering of them; and last, not least, the vain 
conceit that because prayer has been offered quietly, 
and temper has been dormant, and the tongue closed, 
that therefore a great victory has been won over the 
inner man, or, in other words, that sin has been over¬ 
come, because it has been latent: all these, together 
with many coarser and baser thoughts which I need 
not mention, are the temptations of solitude; and the 
moment we pass out of the sight and hearing of men, 
we enter into this new circle of snares. 

The remedy, and, under God’s Grace, the only 
remedy, whether in solitude or company; is to “ watch,” 
—to “ guard,” as far as in us lies, “ the first springs of 
thought and will.” Let us pray and strive for the 
habit of challenging our sentiments,,, and making them 


III.] Fight, watchfully. 223 

give up their passport; eyeing them wistfully when 
they apply for admittance, and seeking to unmask 
those which have a questionable appearance. We shall 
find it useful to have one or two periods of the day for 
distinct recollection of the secrets of the inner man, 
when the question, after seeking light of the Lord, will 
be, “ What have been the derangements of the heart, 
and what has been the cause of them?” Whatever 
they may have been, we must not for a moment be 
discouraged by them, but simply saying to the Lord, 
that such falls were to be expected from us, and that 
they would have been much worse, had not His Grace 
upheld us, we must ask Him once more to do that 
which belongs to Him,—forgive our sins, and raise us 
up again, and give us grace no more to offend His 
Divine Majesty. After which we must begin our 
corn’se anew, as if we had never fallen, with this anthem 
in our mouths, “All my fresh springs shall be in Thee.” 
The oftener we can manage to make these retirements 
into our own hearts, and these renewals of our good 
intentions, the more spiritually prosperous will our 
course be. For be it remembered that it is by a 
constant series of new starts that the spiritual life is 
carried on within us. The waste of animal life is 
repaired, not once for all, but continually, by food and 
sleep ; and the spiritual life, a far more delicate thing, 
must perforce waste and decay under the exposure to 
many adverse influences, to which it is subjected in the 
world. It too requires therefore continually to repair 
its forces. It is not hereby meant that the true 
Christian is constantly falling into grievous or outward 
sin. We are speaking of the spiritual, not of the 
carnal man. And by every spiritual man an attempt 
is made to bring the region of the heart,—the motives, 
desires, affections,—under the sceptre of Christ. And 
he who makes this attempt sincerely, soon finds that 
where there has been nothing faulty in the conduct, 
the fine glass of the conscience has either taken a 
tarnish from the vapours of our natural corruption, or 
that the blacks of the world have settled down upon it. 


221 


Fight ivatchfully. [RART 

The only counsel under such circumstances is, “ Hub it 
bright again with the Blood and Spirit of Christ, and 
proceed with sanguine energy.” 

It will be found that all the more grievous falls of 
the tempted soul come from this,—that the keeping of 
the heart has been neglected, that the evil has not been 
nipped in the bud. We have allowed matters to ad¬ 
vance to a question of conduct,—“ Shall I say this, or 
not say it P” “ Do this, or not do it ?” Whereas the 
stand should have been made higher up, and the 
ground disputed in the inner man. As if the mere 
restraint upon outward conduct, without the homage of 
the heart to God’s Law, could avail us aught, or be any 
thing else than an offensive hypocrisy in the eyes of the 
Heart-searcher! As if Balaam’s refraining from the 
malediction of the lips, while his heart was going after 
his covetousness, could be acceptable to the Almighty! 
Balaam, being an inspired and divinely-commissioned 
man, dared not disobey; for he knew too well what 
would be the result of such an abuse of his supernatural 
gifts. But we, if, like Balaam, we have allowed to 
evil a free range over our hearts, are sure to disobey 
when it comes to a question of conduct , not being 
restrained by the fear of miraculous punishment, which 
alone held him back. There is therefore no safety for 
us except in making our stand at the avenues of the 
will, and rejecting at once every questionable impulse. 
And this, it is obvious, cannot be done without watch¬ 
fulness and self-recollection,—without a continual 
bearing in mind where, and what we are, and that we 
have a treasure in our keeping, of which our foes seek 
to rob us. Endeavour to make your heart a little 
sanctuary, in which you may continually realize the 
Presence of God, and from which unhallowed thoughts, 
and even vain thoughts, must carefully be excluded. 

But can our own endeavours, essential though they 
be to success, bring about of themselves this most 
desirable consummation ? Our Saviour teaches us 
better. “Watch,” says He, “lest ye enter into 
temptation j” but ends not the precious counsel here. 


225 


lit.j Fight watchfully. 

He gives to His Word on this occasion, that many- 
sidedness of truth, for which all His words are so 
remarkably distinguished, and which so contrasts with 
the one-sidedness of mere human teaching: “Watch 
and pray, that ye enter not into temptation.” The 
sentinel must be at his post, no doubt, and must be 
wakeful at his post if the city is to be kept; but, never¬ 
theless, “ except the Lord keep the city, the watchman 
waketh but in vain.” Man must give his exertion, no 
doubt; but he must never lean upon it; for that would 
be leaning upon the staff of a bruised reed. Now 
Prayer is, or ought to be, the expression of human 
dependence upon God,—the throwing ourselves upon 
His protecting Wisdom, and Power, and Love. And 
therefore, when Our Saviour counsels us to unite prayer 
with watching, He counsels us to throw ourselves upon 
God, under a sense of our own weakness and total 
insufficiency. And surely there is enough in what has 
been said respecting the difficulty of keeping the heart, 
to engender such a sense of weakness. This throng of 
thoughts which is continually passing in and out, how 
shall we dream of examining, trying, judging them all, 
except by a special Divine interference in our behalf? 
Divine power can qualify a man for any thing; but 
nothing short of Divine Power can qualify him for a 
task so onerous as this. To God, then, let us commit 
the keeping of our souls, in the most absolute self¬ 
distrust. And if this self-distrust is any thing short of 
absolute, we may expect that constant falls will attend 
our best endeavours, whose effect, if God bless them, 
shall be to beat us thoroughly out of this fault. It is 
a great attainment to be able honestly to say to the 
Lord, really and deeply meaning what we say: “ Lord, 
I am quite unable to keep my heart myself, and have 
proved myself so by many humbling falls, in which my 
adversary has made me bite the dust; but Thou art 
able to keep me from falling, and to present me 
faultless before the presence of Thy Glory with ex¬ 
ceeding joy; and to Thee therefore I commit the 

Q 


22G Fight watchfully. [part 

keeping of my soul, simply watching, as Thou hast 
hidden me, and leaving all the rest to Thee.” 

He who can say this shall have Christ dwelling in 
his heart by faith; and this indwelling shall be a sure 
preservative against evil thoughts ; and in that heart, 
though agitated on the surface, there shall he a peace 
which it has never known before. 

In the inn of Bethlehem there were many going 
to and fro, and much hurry and disquietude, while 
caravans were unlading or making up their complement 
of passengers, and the divan presented a spectacle of 
many costumes, and resounded with wrangling, and 
barter, and merriment. But in a stable hard by there 
was a tender joy too deep for words, and a stillness of 
adoration which seemed to shut out the outer world; 
for Mary had brought forth her Firstborn Son and laid 
Him in the manger, and her heart and that of Joseph 
were full to overflowing, and angels were gazing down 
from above on the mystery of the Holy Incarnation. 

The soul of man is a noisy hostelry, full of turmoil 
and disquietude, and giving entertainment to every 
vain and passing thought which seeks admittance there. 
But when Christ comes, and takes up His abode in the 
heart, He reduces it to order and peace; and though 
it may move amid the excitements and confusions of 
life, yet hath it an inner stillness which they cannot 
disturb or destroy ; for the King of Peace is there, and 
Peace is the purchase of His Cross, and the last legacy 
of His Love and His ancient promise to His people; for 
so it is written,—“ He hath made peace through the 
Blood of His Cross “ Peace I leave with you ; My 
peace I give unto you—“ Thou wilt keep him in 
perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on Thee, because 
lie trusteth in Thee.” 


m.] The high Prerogative of Suffering. 


227 


CHAPTER IX. 

THE HIGH PEEEOGATIVE OE SUFFEEING, 

“ Verily, verily, Isay unto thee , thou least young, 

thou girdedst thyself and walkedst whither thou 
wouldest: hut when thou shall he old, *7^ s7m77 
stretch forth thy hands, awJ another shall gird thee , 
carry whither thou wouldest not. This 
spake He, signifying hy what death he should glorify 
God. And when He had spoken this , iZc saith 
unto him, Follow Me.” —John xxi. 18,19. 

In these words Our Lord predicts the death of St. Peter. 
In his old age the Apostle was to be crucified, made to 
stretch forth his hands upon the transverse beam of 
the cross, and girded (or lashed round the waist) to the 
instrument of torture by a cord. Tradition says that 
he was crucified, at his own request, with his head 
downwards ; in that case, the girding, or tying tightly, 
to the cross would probably be necessary, hy way of 
keeping the body of the sufferer in its right position. 
In the ordinary mode of crucifixion, to which Our 
Blessed Lord was subjected, the body rested, not, as is 
often erroneously supposed, upon the hands and feet, 
but upon a seat projecting from the middle of the cross; 
but when the cross was inverted, the body would have 
no such rest, and it would then become necessary to fix 
it in another manner by a tight ligament. This is in 
all probability the reference of the words, “ another 
shall gird thee,” though perhaps some will prefer to see 
in them nothing more than an allusion to the binding 
of the Apostle previously to his being led away to 
execution. 

But putting aside their original and literal meaning, 
the words lend themselves very well to a secondary 
application. They may be regarded as a striking 
parable of human life in its two great periods of youth 
Q 2 


228 The high Prerogative of Suffering. [part 

and old age. Youth is full of enterprise, energy, hope, 
vigour, prompt in forming schemes, and active in 
carrying them into execution; when emancipated from 
the restraints of boyhood, it exults in its independence, 
and feels that it is the master of its own destiny: 
“ When thou wast young, thou girdedst thyself, and 
walkedst whither thou wouldest.” But old age is the 
season of helplessness and dependence;—“ another ” is 
called in to perform the most necessary offices, and to 
supply our lack of service towards our own failing 
frames; the very old have to be led, fed, apparelled by 
others, and the end is, that they are carried whither 
(according to the flesh) man cannot but shrink from 
going, and laid, in all the weakness and dishonour of 
death, in the plot of consecrated earth which lies 
around the church. “ But when thou shalt be old, thou 
shalt stretch forth thy hands, and another shall gird 
thee, and carry thee whither thou wouldest not.” 

We are now considering the Christian life in its 
practical, as distinct from its devotional aspect; the 
phases of that aspect of it are, as we have seen, three: 
—acting, fighting, suffering. We have given some 
counsels on the Christian’s work, and on the Christian’s 
temptations, and our plan now requires that we should 
say something of those occasions, on which his great 
duty is to lie passive in the hands of God. 

I. We remark, first, that suffering in all its forms is, 
ancl should he looked upon as being , a vocation. There 
are many, and these real Christians, persons interested 
in God’s Service, who regard suffering in a shallow, 
superficial point of view, as an interference with their 
vocations, and consequently miss all the golden oppor¬ 
tunities of growth in grace and knowledge which it holds 
out. Their plan of life is put out of joint, and, as it 
appears, their usefulness impeded, by some accident or 
some grievous sickness; their activity is at an end, or 
at an end for a time,—quietness is imposed upon them 
as a condition of life, or of recovery; they chafe and 
fret at the restraint, because, as they themselves put it, 
they are precluded from actively doing good. Now 


229 


iii.] The high Prerogative of Suffering. 

what does this fretting indicate ? What but this, that 
they love not the Will of God, hut merely the satis¬ 
faction which accrues in the natural order of things 
from a consciousness of doing good to others ? and to 
cling to this satisfaction is only a higher form of self- 
love,—not the love of God. The truth is, that God, in 
sending them the sickness or the accident, has been 
pleased in His Wisdom and Love to change their 
vocation, and, if minded to be really loyal to His Will, 
they must accommodate and familiarize themselves to 
the idea, not that their occupation is gone, but simply 
that it is altered. As an illustration, let us imagine 
the conduct of a campaign by the commander-in-chief 
of the forces of an empire. No one but he himself is 
in full possession of his plans: he has laid his schemes 
with deep foresight, and with the most correct cal¬ 
culation of contingencies, but communicates the whole 
of them to no subordinate. Advices from home, and 
from the generals of detachments are arriving all day 
long at head-quarters, and despatches are as continually 
going out; but no one knows any more of the contents 
than concerns his own position and duties. Many 
lookers on, who cannot see the whole game, misjudge 
the commander. There is an outcry that he risked 
unfairly, in an enterprise almost desperate, the lives of 
a. small party: hut the real truth is, as men would see 
if they could hut know the whole, that this risk was 
absolutely essential to the safety of the entire force, and 
that by the exposure of a score of men to fearful odds 
the lives of twenty thousand have been secured. Let 
us now suppose that suddenly some officer is com¬ 
manded to hold himself and his troop in readiness to 
undertake some important manoeuvre,—to go up into 
a breach, or to storm a fortress, or to meet and cut 
off an enemy’s supplies: suppose that this enterprise 
exactly suits both the capacities and inclination of the 
man on whom it is devolved; that there is room in it 
for the display of powers which he is conscious of pos¬ 
sessing ; that it gives him just the opportunity which 
he coveted, of achieving distinction. He is making hi§ 


230 The Jiigli Prerogative of Suffering, [paet 

preparations with all sanguineness, and anticipating the 
final order to depart, when, lo ! the order arrives, but it 
peremptorily alters his destination; he is not to he of the 
storming party, he is to go into a secluded dingle with 
his men, far out of the way of the operations, and there 
lie still, and send out scouts to make observations of 
the country, and report. It is a hard trial to one who 
was girding himself for active service, and longing for 
an opportunity for displaying prowess and forethought * 
and it is difficult to bear, just in proportion as there is 
room to doubt the wisdom of the commander’s general 
arrangements, and his considerateness for the individual 
officer whose destination he thus arbitrarily changes. 
But supposing these to he beyond all question : sup¬ 
posing that hitherto the most consummate skill had 
been shown in every arrangement of the campaign, and 
that on many previous occasions the general had shown 
the very kindest, and even the most affectionate regard 
to the interests of this particular officer? Would it 
then be found impossible, or even difficult, to reconcile 
the mind to such a disposition of things ? Surely not, 
when once cool reflection had succeeded to the sting of 
the disappointment. And when our Heavenly Father 
changes our whole plan of life by His providential 
despatches, and virtually sends us the order, “ Lie still; 
and let another gird and carry thee instead of thy 
girding thyself, and walking on Mine errands ‘ whither 
thou wouldest” shall we venture even to remonstrate, 
when we are assured by the testimony of His Word 
that both His wisdom and His care for us are un¬ 
bounded ? and when our own experience of life, brief 
as it has been, re-echoes this testimony? Ah! to 
love God is to embrace His Will when it runs 
counter to our inclinations, as well as when it jumps 
with them. 

What has been said applies quite as much to those 
thousand trifling occasions of every-day life on which 
our little plans are disconcerted, as to the serious 
interference which sickness makes in larger schemes. 
We are too much wedded to our plans, whether they 


231 


in ] The high Prerogative of Suffering. 

be plans for a life, or plans for a day or an hour;— 
too little loyal at heart to the Will of God. And 
hence arises great uneasiness and discomposure of 
mind, which, from whatever source it arises, cannot 
fail to be prejudicial, and a hindrance to the spiritual 
life. We have set apart, it may be, such an hour 
of the day for the purpose of devotion or study. But 
just as we were about to spend it so, some call of 
necessity or charity arises in another direction. In 
either case, whether it be of necessity or charity, 
it is God’s call; and not our duty only, but our 
happiness, lies in responding to it cheerfully and 
lovingly. We must be ready to go out of our way, 
if God calls us out of our way, or, in other words, 
to have our little plans so modified and corrected, 
as to be brought into the scheme of His great and 
all-wise plan. It is every way better to do what God 
intends for us, than what we intend for ourselves. 
Our Blessed Lord on a certain occasion was stedfastly 
bent upon raising the dead; but as He was passing to 
the house where the deceased maid lay, an interruption 
arose. A poor woman with an issue of blood crept 
up behind Him, and, touching the hem of His garment, 
stole from Him a cure. Willingly and graciously 
does Our Lord stop upon His way, and take up the 
episode into the marvellous poem of His Life. He 
makes the poor woman discover herself, and draws 
from her a public acknowledgment of her cure. And 
not until He has dismissed her with a gracious word 
of encouragement does He pass on to fulfil His 
original intention. It is a great lesson as to the 
spirit which we should cultivate, when it pleases God 
to disconcert or interrupt our designs. 

But to recur to the point. Regard suffering, even 
in its slighter forms, as a vocation, having its special 
duties, and offering its special grace. Say secretly 
of it,—“ Here for the present lies thy allotted task, 
O my soul; consider how much may be made of this 
period: how largely it may be improved to God’s 
Service and thy salvation. It is the post to which 


232 The high Prerogative of buffering. [patit 

thou art appointed: seek to occupy it faithfully and 
bravely; and more good shall accrue to thee from it 
than from what thou didst propose to thyself as the 
line of service of thine own choosing.” 

But may we not say something more of suffering 
than merely that it is a vocation ? May we not say 
of it, that it is the highest of all vocations? We 
might augur thus much from the fact, that under 
ordinary circumstances, the close of the Christian 
life rather than its beginning is characterized by 
suffering. As a general rule, the sick bed is the 
scene upon which the curtain falls. And we might 
naturally expect that God would reserve to the last 
that dispensation by which the character of His 
children is to be most highly purified and exalted;— 
that He would call them to the sublimest and most 
elevating of trials at the end of their career, when, 
having been proved in lesser matters, they had been 
found faithful. We find in our text an intimation 
that this was the case with St. Peter. If any one 
ever glorified God by active service, undertaken with 
love and zeal, surely it was St. Peter and his great 
colleague, the Apostle of the Gentiles. St. Peter was 
the chief pillar of the early Church: his energy and 
his gift of government were the main props of her 
administration, before St. Paul appeared. He was 
God’s prime agent in the spread of the Gospel among 
the people of the circumcision. Yet not one word 
is here said of the glorification of God, in connexion 
with St. Peter's active days. The spread of Christ’s 
Kingdom through his preaching and his rule is passed 
over in silence. The Evangelist speaks of his cruci¬ 
fixion—when those limbs, once so full of vigour, so 
prompt to move in the Master’s Service, were fettered; 
and when his body was bound fast to the accursed tree, 
as the period, when God reaped from the Apostle a 
great harvest of glory ;—“ this spake He, signifying by 
what death he should glorify God.” 

During the lifetime of God’s people, the graces 
with which He endows them are always a sweet 


233 


in.] The high Prerogative of Suffering. 

savour to Him, through the Intercession of Christ. 
But in a holy death there is something specially 
acceptable, over and above that which there is in a 
holy life; and therefore with a marked emphasis it is 
written : “ Right dear in the sight of the Lord is the 
death of His saints.” Now what is Death but the 
crown and climax of human sufferings? It is the 
trial of trials,—the deepest shadow which in this life of 
shadows falls athwart the soul. Can a man acquiesce 
lovingly in this trial,—cling fast to God when this 
most chill of all shadows falls across his heart, and 
believe still that he shall be brought out into the 
sunlight ? Then this is a glorious test of the faith 
and of the grace that is in him. God delights to see 
grace in us at all times; but He loves not to see it 
latent. He desires it to be in exercise. And, in 
order to bring it into exercise, He uses the instrumen¬ 
tality of suffering. The leaves of the aromatic plant 
shed but a faint odour, as they wave in the air. The 
gold shines scarcely at all, as it lies hid in the ore. 
The rugged crust of the pebble conceals from the eye 
its interior beauty. But let the aromatic leaf be 
crushed ; let the ore be submitted to the furnace; let 
the pebble be cut and polished; and the fragrance, the 
splendour, the fair colours are then brought out;— 

“This leaf? This stone ? It is thy heart: 

It must be crushed by pain and smart. 

It must be cleansed by sorrow’s art— 

Ere it will yield a fragrance sweet. 

Ere it will shine, a jewel meet 
To lay before thy dear Lord’s feet .’ 5 

The same law is observable in spiritual character, 
which rules the formation of natural. How often in 
a smooth and easy life do men, who have something far 
better beneath, appear selfish, effeminate, and trifling! 
Suddenly they are thrown into some position of high 
trust, great responsibility, or serious danger;—are 
called upon to face an enemy, or submit to the 
hardships of a campaign;—and lo! the character 
shows a stuff and a fibre,—ay, and a tenderness for 


234 The high Prerogative of Suffering. [paet 

others,—which no one ever gave it credit for. Reso¬ 
lute will, dauntless self-sacrifice, considerateness, show 
themselves, where before we could see nothing but 
what was pliant and self-indulgent. Trial has un¬ 
masked latent graces of character; and although 
spiritual character is a thing of a higher order than 
natural, yet it is developed according to the same laws 
of the mind. 

But the chief reason why suffering is the highest of 
all vocations, is that in suffering so close a conformity 
may be attained to Him, who is the highest exemplifi¬ 
cation of human virtue. The heroes of Paganism 
exemplified the heroism of enterprise. Patriotism, 
chivalrous deeds of valour, high-souled aspirations 
after glory, stern justice taking its course in their 
hands, while natural feeling was held in abeyance,— 
this was the line in which they shone. Our Blessed 
Lord illustrated all virtues indeed, hut most especially 
the passive ones. His heroism took its colouring 
from endurance. Women, though inferior to men in 
enterprise, usually come out better than men in 
suffering ; and it is always to he remembered that 
Our Blessed Lord held His Humanity, not of the 
stronger, but of the weaker sex. The leading idea 
of Him is the patient sufferer, “ the lamb dumb 
before its shearers—not till after His ascension 
into Heaven is He represented to us as “ the Lion of 
the tribe of Judah.” And it is for this among other 
reasons, that, while the Evangelists notice different 
parts of Our Lord’s History,—while two of them are 
wholly silent respecting His Infancy and Childhood,— 
and one almost silent respecting the Ministry in 
Galilee; they all agree in pourtraying His Death 
with great minuteness. Not only was this Death 
the propitiation for the sins of the whole world, and 
therefore the most important of all events to us, but 
also, viewing Christ merely as an Example, His Death 
expresses far more of His Divine Character than His 
Life. What should we know of Christ comparatively 
—how very imperfectly should we conceive of Him— 


in.] The high Prerogative of Suffering, 235 

if the narratives of the Cross were tom out of the 
Book of the Gospels ? It was the Cross which (to use 
an expression we should not dare to use, unless an 
Apostle had led the way) perfected the human 
character of Our Lord; for God made the “Captain 
of our Salvation perfect through sufferings,”—not 
perfect in the sense of sinless, for that He was from 
His Infancy upwards, but perfect in the sense in 
which no one can be perfect, who has not submitted 
to the discipline of trial. The spotless block of white 
marble may be perfect, in the sense of being without 
a flaw; but it acquires a perfection of another sort, 
when, after being shaped and chiselled, it is converted 
into a beautiful vase, fit for the palace of a monarch. 
The Lord, in virtue of His Humanity, had a will 
which shrunk from and deprecated suffering,—a will 
which we see in operation, when those words flow 
from Him in the garden; “ Father, if it be possible, 
let this cup pass from Me.” This will, however, was 
gradually brought round into complete acquiescence 
with the higher will,—an acquiescence which expresses 
itself in that second cry, as recorded by St. Matthew: 
“ Father, if this cup may not pass from Me, except I 
drink it, Thy will be done.” It was this acquiescence 
which gave to the human character of Christ, sinless 
all along, an exquisitely finished perfection, and a 
certain beauty of maturity, which it had not before. 

It is to conformity with Him in this high acquies¬ 
cence- that He called His disciple, St. Peter, when He 
said to him, “ Follow Me.” He had told him that he 
should have scope to follow, in a suffering similar to 
His own, (for St. Peter too should stretch forth his 
hands upon the transverse beam of the cross,) and now 
He tells him to copy His spirit in suffering,—“ Follow 
Me.” 

And does He not tell us the same also? If the 
words “ Follow Me” were addressed specifically to 
St. Peter, are there not words of precisely similar 
import addressed to all disciples to the end of time? 
Do we not read, “ If any man will come after Me, let 


236 The high Prerogative of Suffering. [part 

him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and 
follow Me?” 

Ah ! there is the word of which we are in search, to 
express the agency of the sufferer in this matter,— 
“ take ujp his cross.” It might not he very clear what 
the agency of a sufferer, pinned down perhaps to a bed 
of pain,—upon whom, possibly, silence is imposed,— 
could be. Such an one can do nothing in man’s 
estimation, who looketh only on the outward appear¬ 
ance ; but in God’s estimation, who looketh on the 
heart, he can do much. He has a moral choice left 
him,—a will. This will may affirm God’s will, or 
reject it. While no option is left us as to hearing the 
cross, we may either take it up , or strive to push it off. 
We may, on the one hand, harbour the thought that 
we are hardly dealt with; or, on the other, we may, by 
enforcing upon ourselves such considerations as that 
God is a tender Father, and never chastens but for our 
profit; that suffering is a medicine, remedial, though 
bitter; that we have deserved infinitely more than is 
ever laid upon us ; and that there is no real satisfaction 
for man except in conformity to the Divine Will,—• 
bring round the mind to say sincerely (the highest 
point of perfection this, which human character can 
reach) : 

“ 0 Lord, my God, do Thou Thy holy Will! 

I will lie still: 

I will not stir, lest I forsake Thine arm. 

And break the charm. 

Which lulls me, clinging to my Father’s breast. 

In perfect rest.” 

Are we striving to bring our minds to this point, 
when, and as, God calls us to suffer? Are we daily 
practising resignation as opportunity offers? By a 
patient and loving endurance of annoyances, are we 
preparing ourselves gradually for the discipline of 
trials ? Christ comes to us morning by morning to 
present to us, for the day then opening, divers little 
crosses, thwartings of our own will, interferences with 
our plans, disanpointments of our little pleasures. Do 


Hi.] Of Recreation. 237 

we kiss: them, and take them up, and follow in His 
rear, like Simon the Cyrenian ? Or do we toss them 
from us scornfully, because they are so little; and 
wait for some great affliction to approve our patience 
and our resignation to His Will ? Ah, how might we 
accommodate to the small matters of religion generally 
those words of the Lord respecting the children, “ Take 
heed that ye despise not one of these little ones !” 
Despise not little sins; they have ruined many a soul. 
Despise not little duties ; they have been to many a 
saved man an excellent discipline of humility. Despise 
not little temptations ; rightly met they have often 
nerved the character for some fiery trial. And despise 
not little crosses; for when taken up, and lovingly 
accepted at the Lord’s hand, they have made men meet 
for a great crown, even the crown of righteousness and 
life, which the Lord hath promised to them that love 
Him. 


CHAPTER X. 

OF RECREATION. 

“ Whether therefore ye eat, or drinlc , or whatsoever ye 
do, do all to the glory of God .”— 1 Cor. x. 31. 

“ St. John the Evangelist, as Cassian relates, amusing 
“ himself one day with a tame partridge on his hand, 
“ was asked by an huntsman, How such a man as he 
“ could spend his time in so unprofitable a manner ? 
“ to whom St. John replied, Why dost thou not carry 
“ thy bow always bent ? Because, answered the hunts- 
“ man, if it were always bent, I fear it would lose its 
“ spring, and become useless. Be not surprised then, 
“ replied the Apostle, that I should sometimes remit a 
“ little of my close attention of spirit to enjoy a little 
“ recreation, that I may afterwards employ myself more 
“ fervently in Divine contemplation 1 .” 

1 S. Francois de Sales, Vie Devote. 



238 Of Recreation. [part 

Some persons might be disposed to think Recreation 
too light a subject to be treated in a work on Personal 
Religion. But let it be considered that in the broad 
sense of the term (in which it embraces every species 
of refreshment bodily and mental) Recreation must 
form an integral part of human life. Human life, as 
a matter of fact, is made up of graver and lighter 
passages. There is no true portraiture of it which 
does not present its reliefs and recreations alongside of 
its burdensome pressure and cares. Man’s mind is so 
constituted, that even in the most afflictive circum¬ 
stances it cannot be always on the strain; such a 
strain would ultimately break the mind. So it seeks 
and finds a safety-valve in the lighter passages of life, 
through which its natural elasticity (for it is wonder¬ 
fully elastic) vents itself. But then, if this be the 
constitution of the human mind, and therefore of 
human life, which is but the development and expres¬ 
sion of the human mind, our reliefs, no less than our 
burdens, must come within the scope of true religion. 
For there is no truth more certain than this, that 
religion is designed to leaven our whole life; that no 
district of life, not a single waking hour, is to be 
excluded from its sanctifying influences. If Recreation 
is a constituent part of life, Recreation must be capable 
of being sanctified. 

We do not give Recreation too prominent a place in 
the religious system, when we say that it is for the 
mind what sleep is for the body of man. No man’s 
body could long endure the stress and burden of daily 
life without sleep. And no man’s mind could, as I 
have said, long endure any mental pressure without 
Recreation. It is wonderful what the body gains in 
sleep, far more than we are apt to suspect; what 
gentle healing influences are ministered to the animal 
functions of this dull and heavy frame by that “ soft 
nurse of nature,” as our great poet so beautifully calls 
it. It is often said of infants and young children, that 
they grow much faster in an hour of sleep than in 
several waking hours,—the truth being, I suppose, 


Hi.] Of 'Recreation. 239 

that sleep is an imbibing of energy, and waking 
existence a waste or expenditure of it. And surely it 
is no less wonderful bow much the mind, I do not say 
does, but may gain in Recreation,—how rapid a 
growth in grace it may achieve when the harness of a 
regular pursuit is for a while lifted from off its neck, 
and leisure is given to it to unbend itself at will. 
That Recreation is frequently and cruelly abused, and 
leisure allowed to degenerate into license, is no argu¬ 
ment whatever against its possible utility. Sleep itself 
is not beneficial, but mischievous, if it be not well 
regulated. A man may easily have too much of it,— 
more than is good for him; and the excess is not 
indifferent,—it is absolutely prejudicial. Recreation, 
like sleep, must be carefully regulated with a view to 
the great end which it is designed to subserve. There 
must be some amount of forethought as to the conduct 
of it, and of restriction upon its freaks and licenses, if 
it is to be attended with wholesome effects. Perhaps 
there are some of my readers who altogether resent the 
idea of such restriction; who wish altogether to exempt 
Recreation from the interference of religious principle; 
who look to the little intervals and interstices of work 
as so much time which may be freely wasted, trifled 
away, frittered away, sinned away without compunc¬ 
tion, flung recklessly into the great gulf of unredeemed 
possibilities. 

In censuring thoughts of this kind which may arise 
upon the subject, it is necessary to disentangle what is 
true and just in them from what is radically false and 
vicious. 

It is absolutely certain, then, that there is no single 
waking moment of our life which we can afford to lose. 
Never was truer line written by any poet than that of 
Young, 

“ --the man 

Is yet unborn who duly weighs an hour.” 

Probably there is no such thing as an indifferent 
moment,—a moment in which our characters are not 



240 


Of Recreation. [^AitT 

being secretly shaped by the bias of the will, either for 
good or evil. It is a great mystery, but so it is, that 
our Eternity is suspended upon the manner in which 
we pass through a very short span of time. And, 
analogously, this very short span of time takes its 
complexion from the moments which go to make it up. 
If life itself be of such tremendous import, its con¬ 
stituent hours and minutes cannot be insignificant. 
All minutes must be made available; not indeed 
available in one particular form, not available in the 
way of work, but all available in the Service of God, to 
which both work and diversion may contribute. 

But it is possible that what is meant by resisting 
the interference of religious principle with .Recreation, 
may be merely this, that Recreation will cease to be 
Recreation, if too much seriousness of thought be 
thrown into it. And there is some amount of truth 
here, which we shall presently notice. Unbending no 
doubt must be unbending, if it is to answer its object. 

Let us first say something of the principle by which 
alone any Recreation can be sanctified, and then offer 
some advice on the forms which Recreation may take. 

First, then, Recreation, like work, is to be engaged 
in with a view to God’s glory : we are not to separate 
it even in idea from Him, but to bring it within the 
great scope of His service. This principle is distinctly 
enunciated in the words of the Apostle,—“ Whether 
therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all 
to the glory of God.” Eating and drinking, the taking 
of nourishment, is a species of Recreation, when that 
word is understood in its widest sense. To take nourish¬ 
ment is to refresh the body, even as to take Recrea¬ 
tion is to refresh the mind. If then the taking of 
nourishment may be made conducive to God’s glory, 
and brought within the scope of His Service, so also, 
without doubt, may the taking of Recreation. Let it 
be well settled in the mind then, as the first step, that 
our periods of relaxation may have a religious signifi¬ 
cance and a religious value; may be a means of religious 
improvement and of progress in the spiritual life, whose 


in.} Of Recreation. 2-11 

law is progress; and this apprehension is of itself a 
point gained, although it be only an apprehension of 
the understanding, and not as vet the choice of the 
will. 

The great point, however, is that choice of the will, 
or intention of the heart;—that we should be able to 
say mentally and cordially these words, or their equiva¬ 
lent :—“ I have chosen the Service of Almighty God, 
in whatever position He pleases to place me, as the one 
object of my life. To this great object I have deter¬ 
mined to devote all my faculties of body and soul. 
Hut then neither body nor soul can be sound or healthy 
without innocent Recreation. Innocent Recreation, 
therefore, I will have,—I take it as a matter of deli¬ 
berate choice, not merely because it gratifies me, but 
chiefly because it is subservient to my end.” This 
is the only principle which can sanctify any action, be 
it grave or trivial. 

As to the different forms of Recreation, the following 
suggestions may be offered. 

1. First, of course, care must be taken that there 
may be nothing in them contrary to the Will and 
Word of God,—nothing which His Law condemns. 
Their being useful (in the ordinary sense of usefulness) 
is not here the question. It would be absurd to require 
of every kind of Recreation that it shall do some 
definite good to the minds and bodies of others. It is 
quite sufficiently useful, if it refreshes our own minds 
and bodies, and renders them more efficient instruments 
of the Divine Service. All besides this that can be 
required is, that it shall be innocent,—a form of diver¬ 
sion on which Holy Scripture lays no ban. 

2. But secondly, it does not follow that because it 
is abstractedly innocent, and because, therefore, we may 
not presume to judge others for resorting to it, it is 
therefore allowable for ourselves. There are many 
amusements, which to the pure are pure, but which 
with persons whose imaginations have been fouled by 
evil, and evil which, it may be, they have not yet 
thoroughly outgrown, would stimulate bad passions, or 

R 


212 Of Recreation. [part 

at least throw serious temptations in their way. Let 
no man or woman for the sake of a paltry amusement 
venture within arm’s length of a temptation. To do so 
were to turn into a mockery the daily petition which 
Our Lord puts into our lips,—“ Lead us not into 
temptation.” By the slightest experience of the 
spiritual life, we gain some amount of knowledge of 
our moral temperament, just as by the experience of 
physical life we gain a knowledge of the kinds of food 
wholesome and unwholesome for us. Then this know¬ 
ledge of our own moral temperament must be called 
into exercise, and acted upon, in judging what amuse¬ 
ments are for ourselves permissible. In the spiritual 
life, as in the physical, the unwholesome must be 
avoided. Each Christian must be fully persuaded in 
his own mind of the innocence of those forms of Recrea¬ 
tion in which he indulges, not only to the world at 
large, but to himself in particular. If the circum¬ 
stantials of any amusement are such as effectually to 
preclude secret Prayer, the realization of God’s Pre¬ 
sence and the thought of Our Lord’s Passion, to us 
such amusement is forbidden, though Scripture may be 
silent upon it. Yet it is quite possible that our neigh¬ 
bour, whose mind is possessed of more recollectedness 
and self-control than ours, may partake of it innocently. 
It is very necessary to remember this, because religious 
persons are very apt to judge and set at nought their 
brethren for not being equally strict with themselves in 
regard to amusements. If God’s Word has not spoken 
on the subject, this is nothing more nor less than sa¬ 
crificing love to a Pharisaic feeling of self-gratulation 
that “ we are not as other men are.” 

It may seem a truism to say, and yet it certainly 
needs to be said, that the more amusing amusements 
are, the better. Busy lives have not time for many; 
let such as are taken, then, be thoroughly refreshing. 
Yet what a perfect burden are many forms of so-called 
amusement! or how do we turn them into a burden by 
thoughtlessness, and negligence, and the evil habit of 
letting amusement shift for itself, as if it were a thing 


III.] Of Recreation. 243 

not worth caring for in a religious point of view! The 
ordinary Recreation of ordinary persons very much 
resolves itself into conversation with friends or casual 
acquaintance ; and there can be no doubt that by taking 
a little pains with it, directing it in interesting channels, 
and by unselfish efforts to make it vivacious, conversa¬ 
tion may be made to brighten the mind very con¬ 
siderably, and to relieve the pressure of the burdens of 
life. “ Iron sharpeneth iron; so a man sharpeneth the 
countenance of his friend.” Yet how miserably stale, 
flat, and unprofitable, how utterly devoid of the salt of 
wit and wisdom are the conversations which often fill 
up the interstices of our time! The two minds brought 
together for half an hour are like two circles, which 
just touch in one point, and then fly off each in its own 
orbit; there is no manner of intersection, sympathy, or 
fellowship; and the result is that what should be a 
relief becomes instantly a drudgery. What can be 
done under such circumstances, where the persons across 
whom we are thrown are hopelessly dull, irresponsive, 
formal, or, it may be, vain, impertinent, or otherwise 
actively offensive ? Matters perhaps may be somewhat 
mended by good humour; and if not, this must be 
taken as one of the petty trials of every-day life, which, 
like serious trials, gives scope for the exercise of Christ- 
like patience and sweetness, and so for the elevation of 
our own spiritual character. That may seem to be a 
mind wholly inaccessible to our view of things ; but it 
is well to remember that every human mind has some¬ 
where within it a source of sympathy, if we did but 
know where to look for it, and an interest, if we could 
but find the clue to it. Possibly, as often happens in 
our intercourse with foreigners, it may be our own 
peculiarities which chill, and offend, and drive inward 
those whom we meet with. At all events an attempt 
to copy the mind of Christ and fulfil the Scriptural 
precept, “ Be patient towards all men,” cannot fail of 
drawing down a blessing upon our own spirit—a far 
greater relief than that which could be found in the 
liveliest conversation. 

R 2 


244 Of Recreation. [part 

But to return to our immediate topic. How often 
is foreign travel, one of the best and most intelli¬ 
gent forms of Recreation, turned from a pleasure into 
a burden by the silly, scrambling way in which it is 
embarked upon! No forethought is exercised on the 
subject; there is no attempt at unity of method; and 
both mind and body are exhausted instead of refreshed, 
by flying about all day long from cathedrals to cataracts, 
from museums to mountains, and from picture galleries 
to pinnacles of temples. Such Recreation to a great 
extent defeats its own end. Variety is, no doubt, one 
secret of mental relief; but then even in the variety 
there should be a sort of method and unity of plan, lest 
it degenerate into mere distraction. And all distrac¬ 
tion, that of pleasure as well as of business, is a burden 
to the mind. 

Lastly, although no doubt any thing like severe 
application of the mind would interfere with the end of 
Recreation, it is very much to be wished that a good 
education embraced some superficial and elementary 
knowledge of those lighter subjects of study, which, as 
they turn upon Nature, can be taken up and pursued 
wherever Nature is found. It is easy to speak con¬ 
temptuously of superficial knowledge, and if such 
knowledge flatters the owner into a conceit of his own 
wisdom it is contemptible; but a very slight intelli¬ 
gence on natural subjects—flowers, shells, trees, the 
habits of birds, the habits of animals, the habits of 
insects,—may be at once a great relief to the mind and 
a rational interest. One of the saddest conditions of a 
human creature is to read God’s Word with a veil upon 
the heart, to pass blindfolded through all the wondrous 
testimonies of Redeeming Love and Grace which the 
Holy Scriptures contain. And it is sad, also, if not 
actually censurable, to pass blindfolded through the 
works of God, to live in a world of flowers, and stars, 
and sunsets, and a thousand glorious objects of Nature, 
and never to have a passing interest awakened by any 
one of them. It is a precept of the Divine Master’s, 
occurring in the Sermon on the Mount, and therefore 


Hi-] Of Recreation. 245 

obligatory upon all His disciples, that we should “ con¬ 
sider the lilies of the field.” If Christians qualified 
themselves more for an interest in Nature by that 
which is essential to such interest, a slight knowledge 
of Nature, there would be among them much more 
purity, and therefore much more brightness and 
joyousness of mind. For Nature is God’s pure work, 
unsullied by sin; and therefore the study of it is a 
pure delight to those who love Him. 

Two obvious counsels may be given in conclusion. 

a. All excess in recreations must be avoided. They 
are not, and must not be, regarded as the earnest 
business of life. The sign of the Cross,—the mark of 
self-denial and self-renunciation,—should be made upon 
each and all of them. Indeed this is as essential to the 
enjoying them as it is to their sanctification. An 
amusement indulged too far soon cloys. It has not the 
spring in it which earnest work has. 

b. Secondly; our longer periods of leisure should 
always be made to pay to God the tax of additional 
devotion. It is a heavenly thrift, and a great gain in 
the way of refreshment of mind, to make an hour of 
leisure an hour of communion with Our Lord. We 
should see to it that, as our alms are proportioned to 
our superfluous substance, so our prayers should be 
proportioned to our superfluous time. 

Finally; let none think lightly of the subject we have 
treated in this Chapter. We have been really dealing 
with the question how the human mind may be pre¬ 
served in health, vigour, and efficiency. What careful, 
discriminating, delicate treatment does this mind re¬ 
quire at our hand, seeing that God puts upon it such 
overwhelming honour! Does He not propose to make it 
the Temple of His Holy Spirit, a house for His special 
indwelling, a spiritual sanctuary fragrant with the 
incense of Prayer P If the constitution which He has 
given it is never thoughtfully studied, if from neglect 
or thoughtlessness we violate the laws which He has 
impressed upon it, may we not seriously injure that 
which is destined to be an instrument of His Service 


246 Of Recreation. [part hi. 

and glory ? Lord, make us to hallow Thy House of 
Prayer. Make us jealous of the purity, vigour, energy 
of our own minds. And oh ! let Recreation, as well as 
business, be so ordered, as to further instead of inter¬ 
rupting our communion with Thee. Teach us to turn 
it into fine gold of the altar by the purity of our 
intention in taking it, and to offer it unto Thee, (for 
so only can -any work of ours be acceptable,) in the 
union of Thy Son’s Merits and Passion. 


PAIIT IV. 


SUPPLEMENTAL. 


CHAPTER I. 

ON THE WISDOM AND COMFOET OF LOOKING NO FHE- 
THEE THAN THE PEESENT DAT IN ODE SEEVICE OF 
GOD. 

“ He that is faithful in that which is least is faithful 
also in mucky —Luke xvi. 10. 

The principle laid down in these words admits of many 
applications. One of them will form the subject of the 
present Chapter. 

We had occasion to remark recently that all growth 
proceeds from one nucleus,—forms round one centre. 
It is so in Nature, it is so in Grace, and it is so in 
study and the pursuit of knowledge. The first thing 
to he done by a person bent upon studying any large 
subject of human knowledge, such as History, or Juris¬ 
prudence, or Philosophy, or Divinity, is to limit the 
field of his researches, and draw a circle round it. In 
History, for example, the attacking universal History 
in all its parts would make us miserable sciolists; we 
should take any well-defined period, to which we happen 
to be particularly drawn, and make all our studies 
gather round that period as their centre. Thence our 




248 On the Wisdom, Sfc., of looking no further [part 

researches may extend themselves into adjacent periods 
systematically and on principle; and the knowledge so 
acquired would be sound, not discursive. 

Now in so far as the practical life of Christianity is, 
or ought to be, the study of all of us, it is subject to 
the same laws as other studies. Here, too, he who 
would make a solid progress will do well in a certain 
sense to limit the field. In a certain sense, of course, 
it admits of no limitation. The Service of God must 
be co-extensive with our whole life, and reach over our 
whole compass of duties, without a single exception. 
Still, in trying to fill this vast area, we shall do well to 
begin from a centre, and work outward. In Devotion 
and in Duty address yourself first to what is manage¬ 
able, and distract not the mind, whose quietness is 
essential to progress, with too many calls at once. 
Collect all your energies in one quarter of the field,— 
whether it be the conflict with the besetting sin, or 
the realization of the Presence of God, or of any other 
religious truth which has taken a strong hold upon the 
mind; and try to occupy that corner effectively. He 
faithful in that which is least; and gradually the area 
of God’s Service shall for thee extend itself, and thou 
shalt be faithful in much. 

Now it shall be the object of the present Chapter to 
show how this principle is capable of application to our 
Time. 

God has divided for us our Time into periods. Our 
life has, by His appointment, something like the hands 
of a clock, or the stroke of a bell, to mark its progress. 
I am not speaking of artificial divisions of Time, 
like the hour or the week. The hour is an arbitrary 
division of man’s making. The day might be divided 
into three hours, or four, or nine, as easily as into twelve. 
The week, or rather the seven-day week, is indeed of 
Divine appointment; but it too, like the hour, is arbi¬ 
trary and artificial,—and has nothing in Nature cor¬ 
responding to it. The Homans had eight-day weeks, 
and other nations may have divided their month after 
other fashions, into sets of six days, or four days, 


IV.] than the Present Pay in our Service of God. 249 

or three. But I am speaking now of the natural 
divisions of Time, marked by the movements of the 
heavenly bodies,—by the circuit of the earth round 
the sun, the moon round the earth, and by the earth’s 
revolution on its own axis. The year, the month, and 
the day are God’s divisions of Time, and they are 
divisions inherent in the constitution of the world,— 
divisions having an outward visible sign on the face of 
Nature to mark them. 

Now of these periods,—the day, the month, the year, 
which enter into the composition of every man’s life¬ 
time,—the day is the least. The day is the least in 
point of duration ; hut it may be also said with truth of 
the day that it is the rudiment of the whole. The day 
is a life in little, a miniature life. Let a convex mirror 
be suspended overhead in a room, so as to form a small 
angle with the wall; you will see all the whole room in 
it, wide as it may be, with all the details of the fur¬ 
niture, and all me company. And how is this ? Every 
object is, of course, greatly reduced in size, so that 
every square yard of space in the room appears as a 
square inch of space, or less, on the mirror. Still there 
is nothing which finds its place in the room, which does 
not also find a proportionate place on the mirror. So 
it is with the day and the lifetime. The day is the 
convex mirror of the life. Bo you desire a summary 
estimate of a man’s whole character, as it will appear 
upon a calm review after he is laid in his coffin? 
Study him for a day only, from his rising to his lying 
down; and it is enough: the germs of the life are in 
the day; and that microscopic view, aided by a little 
effort of imagination, puts you in possession of the 
whole truth respecting him. Is it not written, “He 
that is faithful in that which is least is faithful also in 
much: and he that is unjust in the least is unjust also 
in much ?” 

But before I enter more in detail into the miniature 
character of the day, and the help which we may derive 
from the due consideration of this character, I will 
point to those passages of Holy Scripture, which imply 



250 On the Wisdom, Sfe., of looking no further [paeT 

that, in God’s design, the day is the rudiment of the 
whole life,—a little life in itself. 

First, then, the Christian’s store of provisions for his 
journey is meted out to him day by day ; which implies 
that in God’s estimate a day is a complete cycle, a little 
life in itself. On what principle does Our Lord teach 
us to pray, “Give us day by day our daily bread?” 
Why are we implicitly directed to come again another 
morning, and yet another and another, for our supplies ? 
Why not pray compendiously and once for all, Give me 
bread, Lord, during the term of my life ? Why, but 
because another day is not so much another stage in 
the pilgrimage, as actually another pilgrimage, in itself 
complete, without any consideration of what went before, 
or what is to follow after ? I know not whether I may 
live to see another day. If therefore bread for a whole 
lifetime were to be given me to-day, it might be super¬ 
fluous, it might be more than was needed. And to 
pray for more than we need, would be inconsistent with 
the sobriety which should characterize prayer. 

Again ;—as the Christian’s provisions are meted out 
by the day, so his thoughts are to have the same limit, 
—his anxieties (blessed be God!) are to be bounded by 
the horizon of nightfall. Sweet and solemn are those 
words,—I know not whether more sweet, or more 
solemn,—“ Take no thought for the morrow, for the 
morrow shall take thought for the things of itself; suf¬ 
ficient unto the day is the evil thereof.” Observe that 
Our Lord does not tell us to take no thought for this 
day; rather perhaps He implies that we should do so. 
Certainly it would be well to do so in matters spiritual. 
It would be well if, in the freshness of the morning 
hour, we were to arrange our engagements, as far as 
possible, with a little forethought and discretion, and 
make up the plan of our day till bed-time. “ Such a 
quarter of an hour in the course of to-day may be gained 
for the highest of all purposes;—I must work hard 
beforehand to gain it. I shall have to encounter such 
and such a temptation,—I must be on the watch for it. 
This hour I shall be alone,—I must guard my thoughts; 


iv. 1 than the Present Day in our Service of God. 251 

the next I shall he in company,—I must guard my 
tongue. A little contrivance and arrangement here and 
there may redeem time,—I must see whether the ar¬ 
rangement cannot be made.” All this is consideration 
beforehand,—is thoughtfulness ; but it is not the 
thoughtfulness which the Lord forbids,—for it lies 
within the horizon of to-day. What He does forbid, 
and what unhappily it is very hard to check in oneself, 
is the previous contemplation and adjustment of dif¬ 
ficulties, which stretch into that unknown to-morrow, 
which belong not to the cycle of the present day- We 
are always for flying off mentally to contingencies, 
things which are to happen by and by, and may never 
happen; Christ is always for recalling us to that which 
lies under our hands. 

Again. Our purposes are to be limited by the same 
horizon, which determines our duties, our provisions, 
and our anxieties; or rather, if we listen to the literal 
wording of Scripture, by an horizon still more limited. 
“ Go to now, ye that say, To-day or to-morrow we will 
go into such a city, and continue there a year, and buy, 
and sell, and get gain : whereas ye know not what shall 
be on the morrow. For what is your life ? It is even 
a vapour, which appeareth for a little time, and then 
vanisheth away. For that ye ought to say, If the Lord 
will, we shall live, and do this or that.” A precept 
than which scarcely any may be more cheaply fulfilled 
in the letter, while it is perhaps the most arduous of all 
God’s precepts to fulfil in spirit and in truth. Surely it 
is not to be fulfilled by the mere use of the words, 
“please God,” or of the letters I). V., when we speak 
of our future projects; but by a deep inner consciousness 
that the future is wrapped in utter uncertainty,—that 
we can see no further than to what lies under our hand, 
—and that even the cycle of the present day embraces 
more time than we have any right to calculate upon. 
There may be trials awaiting me in the vista of the 
future, trials threatening to come to-morrow, or the day 
after to-morrow, or a week hence, or a month hence,—• 
I have simply nothing to do with them at present. 


252 On the Wisdom, Sfc., of looking no further [paet 

God requires my services day by day, and will gra¬ 
ciously recompense me day by day, if'I am true to 
Him, and lead me on day by day, and give me the 
support of a day in its day, and the grace of a day in its 
day. And surely a day is not a long time to endure,— 
there are not so many hours between rising up and 
lying down, but that I could manage, if I really prayed 
and really strove, to be watchful, and pure, and self- 
denying, and zealous in my work, and punctual in my 
devotions. Come, now, does not it look very practicable; 
really a thing that may be done, and done by the 
humblest ? Then why should we not begin to-morrow P 
Why should we not spend to-morrow better than we 
have ever spent a day in our life? Why should we 
not lay our plans for doing so this evening ? 

Thus it has been shown from Holy Scripture that 
the day is the divinely-constituted element of the life 
of man,—the element for which he is furnished, and 
beyond which he need look no further. In short, a 
day is, as I said before, a miniature life. And now let 
us draw out this position in detail. 

First; The morning hour is a miniature of youth. 
We know how much depends on the shape and com¬ 
plexion, which the human character takes in youth,— 
how comparatively exceptional a case it is that a godless 
and irreligious youth is succeeded by piety in mature 
age,—how all-important it is that the influences of 
Divine Grace should be fused into the character when 
it is plastic, and before it has crystallized. Nor can 
the importance of the morning hour be overrated. 
That the period immediately after rising should be 
scrupulously consecrated to God,—that the earliest 
thoughts of the day should be filled with God,—that 
the homage of self-dedication should be renewed before 
starting on another pilgrimage,—that we should listen 
to His small voice of warning and encouragement as it 
issues from the pages of His written Word,—all this is 
so essentially bound up with the peace and holiness of 
the day, that one might almost say the two are inse¬ 
parable. The tone of sentiment and feeling main- 


iv.] than the Present Day in our Service of God. 253 

tained throughout the day is sure to take its colouring 
from that morning hour. 

Secondly. Youth passes away, and the earnest work 
of life begins ; the profession or trade is entered upon. 
And, in like manner, the morning prime comes to a 
close ; the worship of God is completed, and the service 
of God,—that is, work, the work of our calling,— 
begins. Do it with all thy might, O man, for it is the 
business which thy Father hath given thee to do. Do 
it with all thy might; for thou must work the work 
of Him that sent thee while it is day ; the night 
cometh when no man can work. Thou art to be in thy 
work a fju/ArjTrjs ©eou,—copyist, imitator of God. Now 
whatever God does, He does perfectly. If it be hut 
the creation of a leaf or a flower, it is done in such 
a manner as that the most minute and microscopic 
examination only serves to bring out fresh beauties. 
Strive to do thy work in such a manner. Let it be 
thy earnest effort, that he who looks into it shall find 
no flaw. Let the thing not only be done, but be done 
gracefully and ornamentally, as far as may be. It 
is a great and precious thought that God may be 
pleased by service done with the whole soul, and with 
strict punctuality and conscientiousness. 

Thirdly. The age of man passes on, and real trials 
have to be grappled with, when life is mounting now 
to its noontide. Narrow circumstances, sickness, be¬ 
reavement,—the manifold snares of the great world, 
the lures of ambition, or sensuality, or covetousness,— 
beset the man on all sides. These great trials of faith 
and patience find themselves represented in miniature 
in the little crosses, ruggednesses, unpleasant collisions 
of one day’s walk. Temptations in the heat of con¬ 
versation to overstate things, or to use acrimonious 
language, or to throw out (for the sake of amusement) 
words bordering on the profane,—temptations to lose 
one’s temper,—to indulge appetite in eating,—to resign 
oneself to calls of ease and sloth, or to harbour thoughts 
'of impurity;—all this is the miniature crucible, in 
which day by day the faith and patience of God’s 


254 On the Wisdom, Sfe., of looTcing no further [part 

children are tried and approved. Often the noontide 
sun waxes hot upon them. The bright promise of the 
morning is overclouded. There are fightings without, 
and fears within, oppositions, vexations, annoyances, 
anxieties, apprehensions. It is painful to thwart natural 
inclinations, as a Christian must do several times in 
each day: it is called in Scripture “ crucifixion of the 
flesh;” and crucifixion cannot but be painful. But 
comfort thee, faithful soul!—the night is coming, when, 
if thou wilt endure patiently at present, the fever-fit of 
passion, or excitement, or anxiety shall have worn off, 
and the Saviour shall fold thee under His wing, and 
thou shalt sit down under His shadow with great 
delight. 

“ Be the day weary, or be the day long. 

At length it ringeth to Evensong.” 

So sang the Fathers of the Reformation in a time of 
sore distress, when the fires of persecution raged fiercely 
around them, and God’s Truth in their persons was 
hated, hunted down, and trodden under foot. A sweet 
strain, and which well may have nerved a Christian 
man to dare and endure all things. Fierce glows the 
noontide sun of persecution; but man’s power has a 
limit; and suffering, however protracted, must have a 
limit, and even martyrdom itself is but light affliction, 
when set in the balance against “the rest that re- 
maineth for the people of God.” And as at the close 
of the most wearisome day is heard the musical 
tinkling bell, which calls Christians to Prayer, and the 
Evensong is poured forth at the Saviour’s feet, and He 
bestows His vesper blessing “ ere repose our spirits 
seal,”—so it shall he yet a little while, and then we 
shall hear His voice calling us to His Bosom with a 
“Come, ye blessed,” and shall answer in accents o? 
well-grounded hope and lofty praise, and shall share the 
rest of those who sleep in Jesus. 

Well, the prospect of the evening hour of communion 
with God may equally serve to nerve us to a manful 
endurance. A holy calm will hover round that evening 


it.] than the Present Day in our Service of God. 255 

hour,—light and music will then break out upon the 
soul, if the testimony of conscience be such, that upon 
the whole we can rejoice in it. Have I endured to-day 
in the hour of temptation ? have I worshipped God in 
my closet ? served Him in my work ? obeyed Him in 
my trials P If not altogether as might be wished, still 
perhaps a shade better than yesterday,—at all events, 
there is His boundless Love in Christ ; waiting to bless 
me without money, and without price, and to blot out 
all transgressions. So, saith the Lord of the Vineyard, 
“ call the labourer and give him his hire.” Let his 
hire be the peace which passeth understanding, which 
the world can neither give nor take away. Let him be 
sealed with the Saviour’s Blessing, and sleep under His 
wing. 

Lastly. Death ;—Lt is an old tale, how Death is 
miniatured in sleep. Both are a lying down shrouded 
in a darkened chamber, where the stir of life is hushed, 
and the light of life does not penetrate. And from 
both there shall be an awaking;—for “ I believe in the 
Resurrection of the Body.” I believe that, as the stir 
in the house begins again with the dawn,—so, when 
the present Economy shall have run its course, those 
dreary abodes which the cypress and the yew over¬ 
shadow, shall be peopled with life, and resound with 
Hallelujah 

Such is the analogy between Human Life and the day, 
which results from the fact that one is the rudiment of 
the other. Now let us avail ourselves of this fact in the 
conduct of our spiritual life. In place of that constant 
reaching forward into the future of Time which cha¬ 
racterizes the natural man, let us devote ourselves to 
doing in the faith and fear of God the duties which call 
for immediate discharge, and to meeting in His strength 
the temptations which to-day are imminent. Let our 
horizon of forethought and care in things spiritual, as 
well as in things natural, be nightfall. To coin afresh 
an old proverb, which is homely to vulgarity,—a 
coinage, by which it would gain much in moral value, 


256 On the Wisdom, Sfc., of looking no further [part 

as well as in gracefulness,—“ Let us take care of the 
days ; and the years will take care of themselves.” 

But, alas! in the minds of many readers there rises 
up the discouraging thought, so paralyzing to effort, 
that already numerous days have dropped away into the 
gulf of unreclaimed possibilities, like the autumn leaves 
of trees which grow on the brink of a deep and dark 
ravine; and that on each of them, even though they 
have been spent in secular activities, and in eager run¬ 
ning to and fro in quest of worldly wealth or worldly 
distinction, might be inscribed (like oracles upon the 
Sibylline leaves) the motto which poor Hugh Grotius 
deemed appropriate to his whole life : “I have wasted 
my life in laboriously doing nothing at all.” Nothing 
have we done for God in those days, nothing in the 
work of our salvation; and all beside that man can do 
is vanity. Be it so. But the Gospel, the Good News 
from Heaven, is not without hope for us, nor without 
that which is inseparable from hope, a new spring of 
energy. Although in the system of the Natural Life 
of man, Time past can never be recalled, there is such 
a thing in the Economy of Grace as “ redeeming the 
time.” When our works are done with a full faith in 
the pardoning, restoring Love of Christ, with an ardent 
enthusiastic desire to please Him, and yield Him all the 
little miserable tribute that we can,—when conscious¬ 
ness of past falls and neglected opportunities redoubles 
our energy,—when, like Peter, plunging into the water 
to meet his Lord, we burn with desire to show Him 
that we love Him more than those, who have not 
wounded Him so deeply,—then in those days of vigo¬ 
rous Christian impulse we redeem the time, and God 
restores to us the years which the locust of self-indul¬ 
gence or irreligious toil has eaten. 

Lift up, then, the hands that hang down, and the 
feeble knees! God gives us more days still,—gives 
them surely that they may be redeemed, not that they 
may follow their predecessors into the dark ravine of 
unreclaimed opportunities. If He lightens our darkness 
once again, a fresh dawn to-morrow will suffuse itself 


iv.] than the Present Day in our Service of God. 257 

over the face of Nature. My reader, why should it not 
be a dawn of spiritual life, and hope, and energy in thy 
breast,—a dawn which shall shine more and more unto 
the perfect day,—the day of consummated holiness and 
endless enjoyment ? 


CHAPTER II. 

ON UNITY OF EFFORT IN THE SERVICE OF GCD. 


“ Thou art careful and troubled about many things ; but 
one thing is needful .”— Luke x. 41, 42. 

What a depth is there, combined with what a simpli¬ 
city, in the words of Our Blessed Lord! On a very 
fair and bright day, we sometimes see the sea at the 
distance of a few boat’s-lengths from the shore so per¬ 
fectly clear, that we can literally count the pebbles 
at the bottom. If we were to throw ourselves out 
of the boat, we should find that we were strangely 
deceived as to the depth of that water. Its crystal 
clearness has made us think it much shallower than 
in truth it is, and we should find ourselves, to our 
surprise, far out of our depth in it. So it is with the 
maxims of Holy Scripture in general; but specially 
with those gracious sayings, which fell from the lips of 
the Incarnate Wisdom. So simple that a child can 
understand them, they are at the same time so pro¬ 
found, that the intellect of the most highly gifted and 
highly cultivated philosopher cannot fathom them. The 
principles asserted in them, while they are perfectly 
plain and intelligible, admit of an infinite variety of 
applications to the conduct of life; applications which 
the spiritual mind is instructed by God to make for 
itself. 

One great secret of success in the Christian warfare 
is quietness of mind. Without interior peace, there is 
no such thing as true Religion. The peace, which by 

s 



258 On Unity of Effort [paet 

simple faith in Christ the conscience obtains, is the 
first step in Sanctification. All Christian virtue is 
built upon that foundation a Therefore being justified 
by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord 
Jesus Christ.” And still through our whole course, 
Christ’s Blood of Atonement and His Life of perfect 
Righteousness are the great fountains of peace which 
travel with us, just as the stream, which flowed from 
the smitten Rock, followed Israel in their pilgrimage. 
But, if we are to have success in the pursuit of holiness 
and in meeting our spiritual foes, there must be peace 
not only in the consciousness of our acceptance, 
but peace also in effort and endeavour. The area of 
holiness is a very wide area; and by attempting to 
fill it all at once, we may overtax our resources, waste 
our strength, and throw ourselves out of heart. 

We will, therefore, in this Chapter offer some 
remarks on the principle of spiritual policy which we 
should adopt, if we desire successfully to meet that 
discouragement which results from distraction of mind. 
The principle is thus given us by Our Blessed Lord,— 
“ One thing is needful.” And this, among various 
other applications of it, all equally wholesome and 
wise, we interpret to mean,—“ Let there be one idea at 
the foundation of your spiritual character, round which 
that character forms itself: let one single principle be 
the foundation of all your obedience to God’s com¬ 
mandments. You will never succeed, while you are 
paying equal attention at one and the same time to 
every department of the Divine Law.” A speculative 
difficulty will perhaps be felt here, which it is well to 
encounter at the outset. 

Are we not bound, it may be asked, to strive after 
the fulfilment of all God’s commandments ? Does not 
the holy Psalmist say, “ Then shall I not be ashamed, 
when I have respect unto all Thy commandments ? ” 
If therefore any one should advise us to fasten our 
attention principally upon one of these commandments, 
is he not relaxing the stringency of the Divine Law, 
and imposing upon us a single obligation, where God 


it.] in the Service of God . 259 

has imposed upon us many ? This reasoning is very 
plausible, hut not really sound. 

The heathen philosopher, Aristotle, speaking of mere 
natural virtues, points out that they are so linked to¬ 
gether, that if a man possessed one virtue in absolute 
perfection, he must perforce possess the rest. And a 
similar remark may be made respecting the graces of 
the Christian character. They hang together more or 
less, and one draws another in its train. We may see 
an instance of this in St. Paul’s inspired panegyric on 
Charity. Read carefully through all the features of 
Charity, which he pourtrays in that grand chapter, and 
you will find yourself often crying out, “ Why, this is 
not charity at all, which he is describing, but some 
other grace, to which we give a distinct name.” For 
instance, “ Charity is not puffed up.” This seems 
rather an attribute of Humility than of Charity. 
Again ; “ Charity doth not behave itself unseemly ;” 
i. e. shows taste and tact in finer points of conduct. 
This sounds rather like Courtesy than like Charity. 
But yet the inspired Apostle is not wandering from his 
point. Love has the closest connexion with humility 
and courtesy, so that perfect love can never exist 
without either. Every breach of love in the world is 
due more or less to pride. Whence come all wran- 
glings, jars, and discords, but from a secret feeling that 
a certain precedence and certain rights are our due, and 
a determination always to stand upon those rights, and 
never to waive that precedence ? Strike at the root 
of this feeling in the heart, and you strike at the root 
of every quarrel; or, in other words, secure humility in 
any mind of man, and you secure love, at least on its 
negative side. The case is the same with courtesy. 
Perfect love would involve perfect courtesy; that is to 
say, a nice sense of propriety in our intercourse with 
others, and a delicacy of feeling towards them. So far 
as any one is defective in this perfect courtesy, he 
wants one of the finer features of love. 

Again; it is the law of the natural characters of all 
of us that one particular feature or class of features 
s 2 


2G0 


On Unity of Effort [taut 

stands out prominently, and gives its complexion to 
the whole character. We may be quite sure that our 
spiritual characters will form themselves in the same 
way. They will have a pervading colour, they will 
manifest a particular leaning, whether we wish it or 
not. Our minds are so constituted that each feature 
of them cannot be equally developed. Nor indeed is it 
consistent with God’s design in regard to His Church 
that it should be so. That design includes variety of 
mind. As each stone has its place in an arch, and no 
one stone will fit into the place of another, so the mind 
of each Christian, with its various moral and in¬ 
tellectual endowments, has its peculiar place and its 
appropriate functions in the vast Temple of the Church 
of Christ. 

St. Peter, St. Paul, and St. John, were equally good 
Christians; but the mind of the first did not adapt 
itself easily to the evangelization of the Gentiles ; that 
of the second was not contemplative; that of the third 
had no high gifts of administration and rule, though 
it was endowed with a marvellous insight. It is the 
Lord’s design now, as it was then, that His different 
servants should exhibit different graces of the Christian 
character; and we shall do well in framing our minds 
to the holiness which He requires, to frame them with 
reference to His design, and with the eye constantly 
fixed upon it. 

But again; and this has a most important bearing 
on the question at issue;—all growth proceeds upon 
the principle which we are recommending. Natural 
growth means the gathering together of particles of 
matter round a single nucleus, which nucleus appro¬ 
priates and assimilates those particles. If we take a 
small fragment of the blossom of a flower, and examine 
it with a powerful microscope, we shall see that it 
consists of a series of colour-cells, ranged in perfect 
order, (like the cells in a honeycomb, or the stones in a 
tessellated pavement,) which contain the pigment of 
the flower. Originally there was but one single cell, 
containing the vital principle of the whole flower; but 


261 


Iy.] in the Service of God. 

as the germ was fed by the dews and rains of heaven, 
and by the moisture of the earth, it gathered to itself 
particles from the elements which surrounded it, and 
gradually formed a daughter cell, and then another, 
and another, until the whole resulted at length in this 
magnificent mosaic of cells, so far superior to any 
pavement which King Solomon had in his palace, or 
even in his temple. Well, spiritual growth proceeds 
by the same rule as natural; it is for the most part a 
development out of one sentiment, an accretion round 
the nucleus of one idea. It is our part to watch this 
law of our minds, and to endeavour by prayer and 
forethought, and wise effort, to turn it to account. 

Now, practically, how is this to be? 

1. There can be no doubt that the besetting sin 
or fault, if any one is prominent, should be the first 
quarter in which the Christian should turn his 
thoughts, and prayers, and efforts. His particular 
shortcoming is an indication by God in what part of 
the field his work lies. Having ascertained, then, his 
besetting sin (and we gave directions for doing this in 
a preceding Chapter), let him set himself as his main 
business, dismissing other matters for the present, 
however interesting to his curiosity, or attractive to his 
tastes, to adopt a course of life wholly contrary to it in 
thought, word, and deed. Let the main tenor of his 
life be a continual prayer and struggle in God’s 
strength against this one sin. And he will find ere 
long that other graces are forming in his mind, besides 
that which he has set himself specially to cultivate. 
This perhaps may be the explanation of the pheno¬ 
menon, which puzzles us in many Scripture characters, 
—that they fail signally in the very grace which they 
most especially illustrate. The truth may be, that 
this was originally the very weak point of their 
character,—that Moses, for example, was by nature 
impatient and irritable; but that waging special war 
against this sin, he became by grace the meekest of 
men, though nature broke out again when he was tried 
with unusual severity at Meribah. 


262 


On Unity of Effort [part 

At all events it is certain that “ the one thing 
needful” for those beset with any moral and spiritual 
infirmity, is to rid themselves of it, rooting it, as far as 
possible out of their hearts, with loathing and abhor¬ 
rence. Until this is achieved, there is no business for 
them of equal importance. 

2. But supposing that, on a survey of our character, 
it should not appear that any one fault or sin has a 
greater prominence than another, (though this will 
rarely be the case,) we may then set ourselves to 
choose, according to our own inclinations, some broad 
Scriptural principle which may be made the foundation 
of our whole spiritual character. We may devote our 
life, or at all events, some period of it, to the cultiva¬ 
tion and illustration of one particular grace. Let me 
give one' or two examples. “ Hallowed be Thy Name,” 
is the earliest petition of the Lord’s Prayer. We 
conclude that the hallowing of the Name of God is the 
object which should lie nearest to the heart of a true 
Christian. Now let us take this to ourselves as our 
rule of life,—devote ourselves steadily, for a longer or 
shorter period, to the fulfilment of this duty as the 
“ one thing needful.” Let us set ourselves to hallow 
God’s Word by never introducing it lightly in conver¬ 
sation, or using it to point a jest, however innocent, 
and by always lifting up our heart for divine illumi¬ 
nation while we read it, thus practically placing a 
difference between it and other books. Let us set our¬ 
selves to hallow the congregation of Christ’s Church, 
by never joining in Public Worship without calling 
seriously to mind that He is in the midst of us. Let 
us set ourselves to hallow God’s Temple , which is our 
body, by thinking much of the consecration which it 
(no less than the soul) has received in Baptism, and 
by carefully separating it, by means of abstinence, if 
need be, from all approaches to impurity. And finally 
let us set ourselves to counteract in our own minds the 
mischief, incident to a controversial age, of discussing 
religious subjects of the gravest moment with a certain 
flippant fluency. The practice of interlarding conver- 


263 


iv.] in the Service of God. 

sation with oaths is now happily almost extinct; but 
the levity and irreverence which gave rise to it may 
show itself in other forms, and often does show itself 
even among religious people. We may bandy the 
Sacred Name about in a theological argument, and 
discuss topics into which angels fear to intrude, in 
the rash and hasty way in which Uzziah handled the 
ark, and with as little awe upon our spirits. Other 
details in the application of the principle will suggest 
themselves, into which I need not enter. 

Or we might attempt to make poverty of spirit— 
the subject of the first Beatitude—the leading thought 
of our religious character. We might set ourselves 
to cultivate this grace as the “ one thing needfulby 
meditating frequently on our misery and wretchedness, 
on our shameful and numerous falls, on the repeated 
failure of our resolutions, on the subtle and powerful 
enemies by which we are surrounded, watched, and 
opposed, and on the far greater progress in grace which 
others have made, with advantages much inferior to 
our own. Also by welcoming humiliations, and mor¬ 
tifications of our vanity, whether great or small, and 
blessing God for them, as bitter but wholesome medi¬ 
cines suitable to our malady. By frankly confessing 
to our intimate friends, where it can be done discreetly 
and without risk of harm to them, the more flagrant 
evils of our life, with an entire willingness to lie as low 
in their eyes as we do in God’s. By constantly calling 
to mind and acknowledging before God that as for the 
gifts which we hold of Him, they are but gifts, and 
entail responsibilities without giving any cause for 
glorying; and that the grace which is in us is grace, 
that is, free favour shown to the undeserving, and 
that our very correspondence to grace comes of this 
free favour, and not of any good thing which dwelleth 
in us. 

Having chosen our principle, whatever it be, it will 
be part of the business of every morning to anticipate 
the occasions on which it may be brought into exercise, 
and to seek the help of Our Lord, that we may be 


264 


On Unity of Effort [pakt 

faithful when those occasions arise ; and it will be part 
of the business of every evening to examine our con¬ 
sciences in reference to this one needful thing, and 
ascertain by a searching inquiry how the resolution has 
been kept. 

It will be well to say, in conclusion, one word of 
advice as to the sort of principle which it is desirable to 
choose for the purpose of building upon it a holy life. 
Choose not, then, too narrow a principle,—by which I 
mean one which gives no scope for exercise or trial, 
except on rare occasions. Suppose, for example, that 
submission to the will of God under the loss of friends 
were chosen as the principle. There is not here room 
enough for every-day practice. Bereavement, much as 
it behoves us to conduct ourselves well when it does 
come, is of rare occurrence. 

On the other hand, too broad a principle will destroy 
the unity of aim and endeavour, which is recommended. 
Too broad a principle is in fact more principles than 
one, and so defeats the end. For which reason, if the 
principle fixed upon be very broad, it will be wise to 
narrow it a little in the earlier stages of the spiritual 
life, that our attention may not be distracted and our 
resolve enfeebled, by multiplicity of detail. Not of 
course that we may excuse ourselves from the obliga¬ 
tion of any part of God’s Law ; but that unity of effort 
in striving after its observance, the setting before us 
one thing as for the time supremely needful, is the true 
secret of keeping it at all. 

Finally, choose a principle to which your mind is 
naturally drawn when in a right frame. We are all 
attracted by different lines of thought in religion, and 
no man has a right to impose upon his neighbour his 
own line. If you read the Scriptures daily with prayer, 
simplicity, and thoughtfulness, it cannot fail that some 
of the thoughts which arise upon them will be made to 
breathe and burn in your heart. So came home the 
words of Jesus to the disciples on the road to Emmaus, 
while He talked with them by the way, and while He 
opened to them the Scriptures. Consider, when you 


265 


IV.] in the Service of God. 

receive these inspirations, whether they may not he 
given for some special purpose; whether they may not 
take shape in some definite practical resolve. 

We have pointed out one method of obviating those 
distractions which are so baffling to Christian progress, 
and we will end by a general counsel to cultivate quiet¬ 
ness of mind in all other ways as well as in this. 
Never shall we attain to holiness, so long as we are 
careful and troubled about many things. Cares and 
anxieties, even of a spiritual character, must be thrown 
upon God; the mind must be absolutely unburdened 
of them; and we must leave our Father to provide for 
them, when the need arises. If business presses, one 
thing must be done at a time, well rather than rapidly, 
and whatsoever affair is not immediately imminent, 
must be left to settle itself as best it may. Scruples of 
conscience, those great foes of progress, must be over¬ 
come by taking a healthy and manly view of the duties 
of religion, by fixing our minds upon its great essentials, 
and sometimes by communicating the case to a discreet 
and pious adviser. But sins,—actual and humbling 
falls,—may not these legitimately distress and harass 
the mind, and make the hands hang down, and palsy 
the knees ? No; not if the true policy in such cases 
is rightly understood. Take the fall as another im¬ 
pressive lesson of the utter vanity of self-reliance, and 
the utter depravity of thy own nature. Go straight 
to the Good Physician, whose doors are always open, 
and ask Him to heal thy guilt with His Blood, thy 
fallen will with His Grace. Never did petitioner apply 
to Him for bodily healing who failed to obtain it. 
Is it conceivable that He will be less gracious, when we 
come to Him to sue for the supply of our spiritual 
wants ? Who put it into our hearts to sue ? Who 
draws us to His footstool ? Who but Himself ? And 
will He reject the prayer of His own instigation ? 

“How shall our Divine Shepherd, who followed 
after His lost sheep for three and thirty years with 
loud and bitter cries through that painful and thorny 
way, wherein He spilt His heart’s blood, and laid 


266 


Of the Way in which [PART 

down His life,—how shall He refuse to turn His 
quickening glance upon the poor sheep which now follow 
Him with a desire, though sometimes faint and feeble, 
to obey Him? If He ceased not to search most 
diligently for the blind and deaf sinner, the lost piece of 
money of the Gospel, till He found him; can He abandon 
one, who, like a lost sheep, cries and calls piteously upon 
his Shepherd ? If the Lord knocks continually at the 
heart of man, desiring to enter in and sup there, and to 
communicate to it His gifts, who can believe that when 
that heart opens and invites Him to enter, He will 
turn a deaf ear to the invitation, and refuse to come 
in 1 ?” 


CHAPTER III. 

OP THE WAT IN WHICH WE SHOULD SEEK TO 
EDIFY OTHERS. 

“ Let your light so shine before men , that they may see 
your good works , and glorify your Father which is in 
heaven .”— Matt. v. 16. 

Nothing is a more sure and regular indication of the 
birth of true religion in the heart, than the presence 
there of a desire to do good. Desire to do good is “ the 
spot of God’s Children,”—the spot which the inward 
operation of His Grace throws out upon the surface of 
the moral constitution. No devout man ever lacked 
altogether this uniform mark of a devout mind. For 
did not Our Lord go about doing good ? And is He 
not our great Exemplar? And must not Christian 
men seek in some way or other to do good, if they 
would at all conform themselves to this Exemplar ? 
Such is the implicit reasoning of every mind, almost 
on the first moment of its taking up earnestly with 
Personal Religion. And who shall find a flaw in it, or 
say it is incorrect ? 

1 The Spiritual Combat, chap. iii. 



267 


IV.] we should seek to Edify others. 

Yet this desire, from not being always directed in the 
right channel, has led good men into mistakes, which 
have not only laid waste their own spiritual life, and 
corrupted the fountains of piety within them, but have 
also rent the seamless vest of Christ, and introduced 
schism into that Jerusalem, which was originally built 
as a city that is at unity in itself. Instances of the 
latter result are unhappily of frequent occurrence 
among the middle and lower classes of this country. 
A man hitherto licentious, or at all events utterly 
thoughtless and godless, receives his first religious 
impressions from some sermon which he has casually 
heard, or some startling dispensation of God’s Pro¬ 
vidence. The religious instinct is newly created in him, 
and operates (partly from its veiy strangeness to the 
man’s ordinary habits) with wonderful freshness and 
vigour. Unhappily for him, neither he, nor any one 
else who has influence with him, perceives that this 
instinct needs guidance. It is a strong motive power, 
like steam in the natural world, and like steam it may 
produce an explosion and do mischief as well as convey 
passengers along a road or across an ocean. Unguided, 
and abandoned to its natural operation, it too often 
does the former. The man feels, (and remember that 
it is part of the instinct of Grace within him that he 
should feel,) “ I must do good to my neighbours.” 
Then comes in the fallacy,—the fundamental mistake, 
—that this good can be done in no other way than by 
preaching, or, in other words, by direct religious ad¬ 
monition, designed and intended to edify. Our Lord 
preached; and before He ascended, He said, “ Go ye 
and preach:” accordingly the Apostles preached: St. 
Paul preached; and why, this new convert thinks, 
should not he ? So preach he will; and if his circum¬ 
stances are such that he cannot preach in the church, 
he will preach in a meeting-house, and become a little 
focus at once of spiritual, or I should rather say 
fanatical, excitements and parochial discontents. So he 
gets together his knot of disciples, and the plain brick 
building of studied ugliness is reared, and the good old 


2CB 


[part 


Of the Way in which 

church, with its solemn and reverend services and un¬ 
exciting doctrine, is forsaken by some who indeed never 
yielded to it any rational or intelligent allegiance, and 
the schismatic begins, as he conceives, to edify. Now 
it is quite clear that this result is wrong; as clear as that 
the main motive which led to it is good. We are 
driven, therefore, to infer that there has been some 
mistake as to the true method of edifying others, which 
has vitiated the conclusion. 

Let us examine in this Chapter the nature of the 
duty of edification, and ask how it is to be fulfilled by 
persons in general. 

The fundamental passage, on which the duty of 
Edification is built, is found in the fifth chapter of 
St. Matthew,—“ Let your light so shine before men, 
that they may see your good works, and glorify your 
Father which is in heaven.” It should be remarked, in 
reference to this text, that the Sermon on the Mount, 
from which it is taken, is a perfect code of Christian 
Duty; so that nothing can claim to be a general duty, 
binding on all disciples, but what can find and show you 
its place in that Sermon. I say binding on all disciples; 
for to the disciples, not exclusively to the Apostles, was 
it spoken. And we may observe, in passing, that 
grievous mistakes are occasionally made, by the indis¬ 
criminate application to all Christians, of what was said to 
the Apostlesof Christ in their Apostolic character. Thus, 
the words, “ Go ye into all the world, and preach the 
Gospel to every creature,” are often ignorantly quoted, as 
if they made the literal and direct evangelization of the 
world the duty of every private Christian. Quite as 
reasonably might it be maintained that all Christians 
have the power of remitting and retaining sins, because 
to the Eleven it was said, “ Whose soever sins ye 
remit, they are remitted; and whose soever sins ye 
retain, they are retained.” Those words were ad¬ 
dressed to a particular body of men, raised up to per¬ 
form a particular work, whose gifts, qualifying them for 
this work, were peculiar, and died with them, never to 
revive; while their functions are, in all essential points, 


2G9 


IV.] we should seek to edify Others. 

continued in the great Office of the Christian Ministry. 
The glorious Sermon on the Mount is of no such limited 
scope, but embraces within the compass of its require¬ 
ments the infant of days who was baptized yesterday, 
quite as much as the hearers who sat on the windy hill¬ 
side listening to it, and thrilled with the sweetness and 
the solemnity of the Divine Discourse. Here, then, we 
are to seek for, and hence we are to gather, that duty 
of Edification which is incumbent upon all alike; and 
thus it runs,—“ Let your light shine before men.” 

It will be seen, by referring to the context, what is 
the precise force and significance of this precept. The 
temptation of the primitive disciples, who lived in the 
days when persecution was abroad, would he to wrap up 
in their own bosoms their Christian Profession, so that it 
should not transpire and involve them in trouble. Is it 
not enough, they would think, to believe in Christ with 
my heart, without the confession of the lips, without 
apprising a scornful and malignant world of my con¬ 
victions ? In reply to all which corrupt reasonings, Our 
Lord tells them that it is unlawful for them in any way 
to hide or obscure their profession. Freely allow it to 
transpire, says He,—for such is His sentiment, clothed 
in a modern dress,—ye are the light of the world, and 
God hath not kindled this light of grace in the midst 
of a crooked and perverse generation, in order that it 
should he covered up or hid. “ Men do not light a 
candle, and put. it under a bushel, hut on a candlestick, 
and it giveth light unto all that are in the house. Let 
your light so shine before men, that they may. see 
your good works, and glorify your Father which is in 
heaven.” Now what is there in the passage, thus 
understood, to prove that Christians generally are under 
the obligation of giving direct religious admonition to 
their neighbours ? Edification by example, and not by 
admonition, is what the Lord is speaking of; for He 
says distinctly, “ Let your light so shine before men, 
that they may,”—not hear your good words,—but, “ see 
your good works , and glorify your Father which is 
in heaven.” Nor does He prescribe Edification by 


270 


Of the Way in which [’past 

example for the salce of edification. He does not bid 
us do any thing, which otherwise we would not have 
done, for the sole purpose of edifying another man. 
He does not say, “ Strive to fix attention on your good 
works, and to make them arrest observation;” He does 
not say, “ Wave the light about, and flourish it in the 
air, and say to all the world, Take notice, brother, here 
is a lightbut what He says is simply, Aa/x^aro), Let 
it shine. Every light will and must shine as a matter 
of course, and must enlighten all that are in the 
chamber, unless there is an intervening obstacle in the 
way; and what Our Lord forbids, is the placing such 
an obstacle in the way through moral cowardice and 
fear of man’s censure. Christian, come out and be 
seen ! No slinking there into a dusky corner, in order 
that your world-opposed ways may escape a sneer. Let 
men see you evidently conducting yourself on super¬ 
natural principles, living above the world, quietly and 
unostentatiously serving God in your vocation. Be 
much in Communion with God; strive to adorn your 
profession with every grace; while at the same time 
you do not shun the world’s eye or make the smallest 
compromise of principle. 

You see that all this falls far short of, or rather is 
an entirely different thing from, a general exhortation 
to edify by admonition. Without denying that, under 
certain circumstances, such admonition may be a part 
of our duty towards our neighbour, it is certain that 
(even under such circumstances) it is a delicate and 
difficult task, and not without certain dangers for both 
parties concerned. 

• It may be of use orieffy to point out some of the 
dangers. 

First. The religious admonition of others, where we 
have no definite call to the work, proceeds upon an 
assumption of superiority in the person admonishing, 
the acting upon which is likely to develope and 
strengthen spiritual pride. Surely the assumption 
that I am better than the man whom I propose to 
admonish, might prove to be baseless, if I knew more. 


271 


it.] we should seek to edify Others. 

We are wholly ignorant of another’s inner life; we 
can never look deeper than the outward appearance. 
He may be dry, and cold, and hard (to all appearance), 
and irresponsive to religious appeals; and yet it is 
possible that that irresponsiveness may come from 
intensity of reverence, and from the fact that, while mine 
is a shallow character, his is a deep one. And this is 
certain, that I am conscious of far more evil in myself, 
than ever has transpired to my knowledge as existing in 
him. Of course, the case is wholly different, if I have a 
commission to instruct him, or if our relative positions 
in society, as in the case of master and servant, teacher 
and scholar, make it my duty to do so. The admonition 
then rests upon the commission, or upon my position in 
Society, both which are quite independent of my own 
religious attainments. But when I have nothing but 
those religious attainments to rest it upon, I should 
surely be rather chary of admonition than otherwise, 
unless it is a very clear case that my religious attain¬ 
ments are superior to his. 

Secondly. Such admonition is almost always a failure. 
The feeling that he is to be lectured, and that too by 
one who cannot found any claim upon his position, 
generally sets a man’s bristles up, and puts him at once 
into an attitude of hostility to truth, which drives out 
the little grace that there may be in him. No; if we 
wish (as every Christian must wish) to do good to 
others, let us pave the way by little acts of help, 
kindness, and self-sacrifice shown to our neighbour 
when in a difficulty. Let us live hard by him in such a 
manner that the most careless observer cannot help 
observing that we are conducting ourselves upon Chris¬ 
tian principle. A time will come, perhaps, when he will 
say of us, under distress and convictions, “ I believe 
that his religion is something more than talk; for I 
have seen his light shining before men; and I shall go 
to him and ask his advice.” Then, acting on the same 
principle which we have hitherto observed towards him, 
we may give him all the help we can in the way of 
advice, but still without parade, or pretence to more 


272 Of the Way in which [part 

than we really know or have felt,—without flashing the 
light in his eyes. 

Thirdly. The diffusion of spiritual feeling—its 
being allowed to come abroad too freely (and it must 
more or less come abroad in religious conversation)—is 
any thing but healthy for this delicate plant. If any 
man questions this, I say, “ Go and try.” Take a very 
intimate and confidential friend; and divulge freely 
to him, by letter or otherwise, what are called your 
religious experiences, your feelings in prayer and medi¬ 
tation, your delight in certain parts of the Holy 
Scriptures, and so forth. Of course, admonition may 
be given much short of this ; but yet such an effusion 
of the heart is the direction in which admonition is 
tending, for it always implies, and almost always 
expresses, something of spiritual feeling in the ad- 
monisher. Well; are you any the better for it, when it 
is done ? Is prayer more or less easy, when you have 
thus unburdened your heart ? Has not the odour of 
devotion lost something of its fragrance and freshness, 
by being allowed too freely to come abroad ? It is sure 
to transpire any how, if you will simply let it alone; 
but you cannot force vents for it, without doing it 
mischief. 

We have said enough to counteract the. mistaken 
notion of the way in which the Edification of others 
should be carried on, and will just exhibit in conclusion 
the positive side of this duty. 

In a word, then, we are not so much to aim at the 
edification of others, as to set a wholesome example, 
and to see that there are no obstructions in the way 
of our edifying. 

Resolve to know much of the inward life of Religion. 
Cultivate in every possible way a spirit of private 
devotion. Determine to know the power of Prayer, as 
distinct from its form. Practise more and more in all 
companies, and under all circumstances, the thought of 
the Presence of God. Seek more and more to throw a 
spiritual meaning and significance into your pursuit; to 
do it more simply and exclusively from the motive of 


rv.] we should seelc to edify Others. 273 

pleasing God, and less from all other motives. Try, by 
a holy intention, to give even to the more trifling 
actions of the day a religious value. This will he 
feeding the light with oil. 

Then as to not obstructing it. Never lower your 
principles to the world’s standard. Never let sin, how¬ 
ever popular it may be, have any sanction or coun¬ 
tenance from you, even by a smile. The manly con¬ 
fession of Christ before men, when His cause is un¬ 
popular, is made by Himself the condition of His con¬ 
fessing us before His Father. If people find out that we 
are earnestly religious, as they soon will, if the light is 
shining, let us make them heartily welcome to the in¬ 
telligence, and allow them to talk and criticize as much 
as they please. And then, again, in order that the light 
may shine without obstruction, in order that it may 
easily transpire what we are, we must be simple, and 
study simplicity. This is by no means so easy as it at 
first sight appears ; for in this highly artificial and pre¬ 
tentious age all Society is overlaid with numerous 
affectations. Detest affectation, as the contrary of 
truth, and as hypocrisy on a small scale; and allow 
yourself freely to be seen by those around you in your 
true colours. There is an affectation of indifference to 
all things, and of a lack of general sensibility, which is 
becoming very prevalent in this age, and which is the 
sworn foe to all simplicity of character. The persons 
who labour under this moral disorder pretend to have 
lost their freshness of interest in every thing; for them, 
as they would have it believed, there is no surprise and 
no enthusiasm. Without assuming that they are really 
the unimpressionable creatures which they would make 
themselves out to be, we may warn them that the 
wilful dissembling of a generous emotion is the way to 
suppress it. As Christians, we must eschew untruth in 
every form; we must labour to seem just what we are, 
—neither better nor worse. To be true to God and to 
the thought of His Presence all day long, and to let 
self occupy as little as possible of our thoughts ; to care 
much for His approval, and comparatively little for the 

T 


274 


In what the Spiritual Life consists. [part 

impression we are making on others;—to feed the 
inward light with oil, and then freely to allow it to shine, 
—this is the great secret of Edification. May He 
indoctrinate us into it, and dispose and enable us to 
illustrate it in our practice! 


CHAPTER IV. 

IN WHAT THE SPIRITUAL LIFE CONSISTS. 

“ And He opened His mouth , and taught them , saying , 
Blessed are the poor in spirit: for their's is the 
kingdom of heaven. Blessed are they that mourn : 
for they shall he comforted. Blessed are the meek: 
for they shall inherit the earth. Blessed are they 
which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for 
they shall he filled. Blessed are the merciful: for 
they shall obtain mercy. Blessed are the pure in 
heart : for they shall see God. Blessed are the 
peacemakers : for they shall be called the children of 
God. Blessed are they which are persecuted for 
righteousness' sake.' for their's is the kingdom of 
heaven ."— Matt. v. 2—10. 

It may seem somewhat singular, at or towards the end 
of a work, which has been devoted to the subject of 
Personal Religion, to give an answer to the question, 
“ In what does the Spiritual Life consist ?” This defi¬ 
nition, lying as it does at the foundation of the whole 
subject, should have been made, it would appear, rather 
at the outset than the close. To this I can only reply 
that, if not formally made hitherto, it has all along 
been presupposed, implied, and often explicitly referred 
to; and that it is far from useless at the close of any 
systematic course of teaching to bring out into full 
prominence the fundamental idea or ideas of the whole 
course, before finally bidding adieu to the subject. This 



iv.] In what the Spiritual Life consists. 275 

must be my justification for introducing this question 
at so late a period. 

In what then does the Spiritual Life consist ? Unless 
the answer to this question is very clearly defined in 
our own minds, we shall assuredly never make any 
solid attainment, but shall be always building and 
unbuilding, “ ever learning and never able to come to 
the knowledge of the Truth,”—and all from a funda¬ 
mental blunder or confusedness of thought. 

I. First, then, by way of clearing away popular and 
prevalent errors, we may broadly assert these negative 
positions, that the Spiritual Life consists neither in 
ordinances, nor in actions, nor yet, as some seem to 
imagine, in activities. Let not the assertion be mis¬ 
understood. The Spiritual Life is closely connected 
with ordinances, actions, and activities,—but it no 
more stands in these things—it is no more ordinance, 
or action, or activity—than the life of a tree is the fruit 
of the tree, or the means used for cultivating the tree. 

1. It does not consist in Ordinances, many or few. 
It does not stand in many prayers, ejaculatory or stated, 
nor in hearing many Sermons, nor in studying many 
chapters of the Bible, nor m many acts of Public 
Worship, nor even in many Communions. These are 
means, in God’s Hand, of kindling the Spiritual Life 
in the soul of man, or means of feeding the flame when 
kindled; but they are not the flame itself, they are not 
the life. It may be very necessary for a fruit-tree, in 
order to its bearing fruit, that its roots should be stirred 
with the spade, overlaid with the manure, moistened 
with the watering-pot; but nothing can be clearer 
than that the spade, the manure, and the watering-pot 
are distinct things from the life of the tree. Yet so 
apt are we (at least in spiritual subjects) to confound 
means with ends, and to erect the means into an end,— 
an intellectual perplexity, indeed, but one which some¬ 
times appears to me to bear a trace of the Fall, and to 
be due ultimately to the corruption of our nature,— 
that even religious people often find it hard to conceive 
of a devout life in the absence of an apparatus of ordi- 
t 2 


276 In ivhat the Spiritual Life consists. [part 

nances: whereas it is quite clear that such might exist 
where, for some reason or other, the ordinances could 
not he had; in which case God, who is independent of 
ordinances, would no doubt supply their virtue imme¬ 
diately to the soul. The whole system of Monasticism 
is an exaggeration of this fundamental error. If a man 
has once brought himself to believe that vital religion is 
not only much helped by (which is true), hut actually 
stands in, the study and meditation of God’s Word, 
and stated acts of worship, private and public,—of 
course it is only the logical sequence from such a 
view that, dismissing secular affairs altogether, and re¬ 
tiring from Society, he should abandon himself wholly 
to these exercises of Religion. But if, on the other 
hand, it is perceived and acknowledged that ordinances 
exist for the sake of living well, that is, devoutly and 
spiritually, it is then seen to be a mistake and an inver¬ 
sion of the reasonable method of proceeding to live for 
Ordinances, which is precisely the principle of mon¬ 
astic life. It is a very pregnant saying of Our Blessed 
Lord’s, that “ the Sabbath was made for man, and not 
man for the Sabbath.” We may apply it not merely 
to the observance of Sunday, but to all those ordinances 
which the seventh day of rest represents, and with 
which it is associated in our minds. These ordinances 
are made for you, not you for them. They are de¬ 
signed to bless your inner spirit with love, and joy, and 
peace; not designed to he an iron frame, a Procrustean 
bed, to the measure of which that inner spirit is pain¬ 
fully to cramp itself. Accordingly, wherever Our Lord 
and His Apostles touch upon the essence and vitals of 
true religion, there is an ominous silence as to ordinance, 
however explicitly ordinances may be recommended in 
other connexions. The beginning of the Divine Ser¬ 
mon on the Mount goes to the root of the matter, and 
answers the fundamental question,—“ In what does 
true religion stand?” Our Lord is there describing 
not the furniture, food, and clothing of the Spiritual 
Life, but the very life itself, which is more than meat, 
and the very body itself, which is more than raiment. 


iv.] In what the Spiritual Life consists. 277 

And not a single ordinance is mentioned from beginning 
to end of the Beatitudes. Where St. Paul details the 
fruits of the Spirit, the same silence is observable. 
And his compendious and noble description of the 
kingdom of God in the human soul runs thus: “ The 
kingdom of God is not meat and drink,”—it stands not 
in outward institutions, but in interior affections,— 
“ but righteousness, and peace, and jov in the Holy 
Ghost.” 

2. The Spiritual Life does not consist in actions. 
The actions are the result, the fruit, but they are not 
the life of the tree. Yet how frequently, in the popular 
estimate of the subject, are the two confounded. How 
gladly would many accept this definition as perfectly 
adequate, and as exhausting the subject—“ The life of 
true religion is a life of usefulness, full of good works 
and almsdeeds which are done !” There is, of course, 
no question that where the life of true religion exists, it 
produces these. “ Every good tree,” says Our Lord, 
“ bringeth forth good fruit.” But though the circula¬ 
tion of the sap secures the production of the fruit, the 
fruit is not the same thing as the circulation of the sap. 
Minds which recoil from the idea of a life devoted 
exclusively to ordinances, are often apt to fall into this 
opposite error. The sum and substance of true religion 
in their view is merely the going about doing good. 
If the good is done, if the hungry are fed, the ignorant 
educated, the miserable relieved, they look no deeper 
nor ask any thing more; this they think is true, deep, 
practical religion. But suppose the case of a man, 
entirely destitute of resources and abilities, labouring on 
perseveringly for the good of his fellow-creatures in a 
very humble sphere, yet blessed with no visible success, 
because he has none of the instrumentality necessary to 
secure success,—they might rather hesitate to put him 
on a level with the supporter, patron, and advocate of 
many charities, whereas it is quite conceivable that in 
the eyes of God he stands on a far higher level. The 
tendency of our English mind, which seeks every where 
for definite and tangible results, strongly inclines us 


278 In what the Spiritual Life consists , [paet 

to estimate character by outward usefulness. We take 
instinctively a hard external view of the fruits of the 
Spirit, looking at the thing done rather than at the 
mind of the doer. Whereas the Apostle Paul, in his 
enumeration of those fruits, does not mention a single 
action , but merely a series of tempers,—“love, joy, 
peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meek¬ 
ness, temperance.” 

3. We said, lastly, that the Spiritual Life does not con¬ 
sist in activities , that is, in intensified action. And we 
think the warning particularly needed in our own Church 
at the present day. Prom one cause or another we have 
a great deal of religious activity among us. This activity, 
however, is by no means exclusively due to religion; 
religion, like every thing else, takes its colouring from 
the spirit of the age. Now the spirit of the age is to 
be stirring, to hate and abolish sinecures, to let no man 
rest upon his oars. We all of us catch something of 
this spirit, which is about in the air just now, and our 
religion, like every other part of our character, takes a 
certain tone from it. We discover (what is awfully 
true) that there is a vast mass of misery and sin lying 
at our very doors. So we say, “ Let us be busy, and 
mend matters to the best of our ability.” The national 
genius here comes in to swell the tide of practical 
enthusiasm. Englishmen are always indisposed to 
speculation, always prompt to action. What an ap¬ 
paratus of philanthropy has been created by the spirit 
of religious enterprise,—special services, special sermons, 
schools of all sorts and for all classes, refuges and re¬ 
formatories, hospitals and houses of mercy, meetings, 
addresses from platforms,—like a forest of masts crowd¬ 
ing upon the eye in some busy, noisy dock ! Religious 
people are working in earnest, and with great zest. 
And shall I say that the zest is in some cases increased 
by the miserable controversies of the times on which 
we have fallen ? I do really believe it is so. There 
are many worthy people, young men entering the 
Ministry more especially, who have been sickened by 
controversies of religious doctrines altogether. They 


279 


rv.] In what the Spiritual Life consists. 

are shocked by the extravagances which they have wit¬ 
nessed on one side and the other; and they cry out 
with Pilate, “What is truth?” Then follows the 
mischievous inference, “ The less we look into the spe¬ 
culative questions of religion altogether, the less we 
seek any definiteness of view on doctrinal subjects, the 
happier will be our minds and the greater our useful¬ 
ness. Religion has another side, the practical; and to 
that side we will give our whole minds; we will bury 
ourselves in our work, and thank God there is enough 
of it to divert us effectually from speculation.” If this 
tendency should operate much more extensively among 
us, we shall soon lose all dogma, that is, all precise 
statements of Christian doctrine,—and as Christian 
practice is no separable thing from Christian doctrine , 
but dependent upon it for its vitality, it may easily be 
conceived that we are approximating to a very sad 
state of things. Positive sceptical tendencies operate 
in the same direction; the insinuation of modem 
sceptics being that the duties of Christianity are its 
only essential part, and that, if the fulfilment of these 
duties be secured, the end is answered ; its facts,—the 
Incarnation, Crucifixion, and Resurrection,—need not 
be supposed to be historical events at all, but may be 
relegated to the domain of allegory, and looked upon as 
pious and edifying myths. Perplexed by these wicked 
doubts, seeing that they are wicked, and yet unable 
satisfactorily to resolve them,—there is many an ex¬ 
cellent man now-a-days, who is taking refuge in his 
work, and feels that, while he is doing all the good in 
his power, his foot is planted upon an impregnable rock, 
from which it cannot be moved. Hence at this period 
of the religious history of our country more especially, 
the people of God need to be warned that the Spiritual 
Life does not stand in religious activities, however in¬ 
tense and fervent, but in something more internal. 

II. In what then,—this is our next point ,—does it 
stand? Our Lord and His Apostles give one very 
unequivocal answer. “The kingdom of God,” says 
Paul, “ is righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy 


280 In what the Spiritual Life consists. [part 

Ghost.” “ Giving all diligence,” says Peter, as to the 
one thing needful, “ add to your faith, virtue; and to 
virtue, knowledge; and to knowledge, temperance ; and 
to temperance, patience; and to patience, godliness; 
and to godliness, brotherly kindness; and to brotherly 
kindness, charity.” It is the Master, however, who 
gives the fullest and most methodical description of the 
graces which constitute the Spiritual Life. And in 
this description we recognize three points, first, that 
the Spiritual Life is internal; secondly, that it is super¬ 
natural ; and, thirdly, that it is developed amid the 
trials and antagonisms of daily life. 

First; it is internal. It consists in a series of dis¬ 
positions wrought in the heart by the power of the 
Holy Ghost. Any life, therefore, which is not more or 
less interior, is certainly not the life of the Spirit. Any 
life which is so busy as to leave no room for medita¬ 
tion and devout affection, any life which spends all its 
energies in external work, without ever rallying or re¬ 
collecting itself at its source, is certainly not the life of 
the Spirit. Any Martha’s life, cumbered about much 
serving, but neglectful of sitting at the feet of the 
Divine Master, is certainly not the life of the Spirit. 
But we must say more. Not even are private religious 
exercises, independently of the mind with which they 
are performed, the life of the Spirit. Confession of sin, 
without a deep and humbling sense of it, is not Spiritual 
Life. And what must we say of a deep and humbling 
sense of it which does not literally take the outward 
form of confession? We must say that with God it is 
confession, although the mouth may have uttered no 
sounds, and the mind framed no words. The asking of 
God certain graces, without a longing to be holier, is 
not Spiritual Life. And what of the longing to be 
holier, if it should not find occasion to burst forth in 
actual prayer? It is prayer in God’s eyes, and no 
prayer is so, which does not involve a movement of 
desire in the heart. 

Secondly. The Spiritual Life is supernatural. We 
are accustomed to confine this term merely to the 


TV.] In what the Spiritual life consists. 281 

sphere of the senses; we mean by the supernatural 
such an inversion of the order of nature, as is visible to 
the eye or ear. But there are miracles of the inner, as 
well as of the outer man; and the Spiritual Life is such 
a miracle. There are heathen virtues, which are quite 
in the order of nature, quite on nature’s level, and which 
nature, with the ordinary assistances of reason and 
the moral sense, has produced. Aristides was just; and 
Alexander was generous; and Diogenes was temperate; 
and Pliny was amiable ; and Leonidas was brave. But 
poverty of spirit, and meekness under insults and 
oppressions, and the rejoicing under persecutions, and 
the glorying in tribulation, and the mourning over sin, 
these things belong to a different system of things alto¬ 
gether,—a system which reverses the order of nature in 
the heart of man. It is against nature to take a slight 
humbly, or to accept an injury sweetly and gently. 
And because it is against nature, you might educate a 
heathen most carefully, and train him most diligently 
from his childhood upwards in all good habits, and yet 
never bring him up to this point. The effect is due to 
a Power above nature, a certain thread let down into 
the soul from the Risen Humanity of Christ,—“the 
power,” as St. Paul calls it, “ which worketh in us,” 
and which, on the day of Pentecost, descended to take 
up His abode in the Church. 

Thirdly. The Spiritual Life , by the very definition 
of it, is developed amid trial and antagonism. We see 
this in several of the particulars. “ Blessed are the 
meek: for they shall inherit the earth.” Who are the 
meek ? When is meekness seen ? When is there 
scope for manifesting it P There is no scope, except in 
circumstances of irritation or provocation. There is no 
room for meekness in a hermitage, where the will can 
never be thwarted, and where there are none of the 
jars and collisions of daily life. There is no such thing 
as meekness without antagonism, either from men or 
circumstances. To feel kindly and philanthropically 
disposed, when all men speak well of us, and no cross 
word is thrown in our teeth, and no cross incident 


282 In what the Spiritual Life consists. [paet 

harasses us, is not meekness at all, but natural bene¬ 
volence, or, if you will, natural amiability. “ Blessed 
are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy.” Mercy 
is not merely goodness ; but goodness in the face of 
demerit. To relieve the deserving poor, or to relieve 
them without any remarkable indesert on their part, 
is not necessarily to be merciful. Mercy presupposes 
wrong done against the agent, of which he might take 
advantage to punish us, but does not. Mercy is 
towards the unthankful and evil, and can only manifest 
itself when it comes into collision with such. 

We make also one more remark, in casting our eye 
over these Beatitudes. The first of them is fundamental, 
and pervades all the graces of the spiritual man. It is 
always present in his mind, and is more or less matured 
according to his greater or less growth in grace. 
“ Blessed are the poor in spirit: for their’s is the 
kingdom of heaven.” To he beaten utterly out of 
conceit with one’s own strength, goodness, and wisdom, 
to feel that apart from God’s Grace we are nothing, 
can do nothing,—to be assured that our best resolves 
are like water or stubble,—to re-echo, with the full 
and intelligent consent of our hearts, the Apostle’s 
confession, “ I know that in me, that is, in my flesh, 
dwelletli no good thing,”—to write upon our old nature 
“ Incorrigible,” and to depend with great simplicity 
upon Christ for all things,—this is the grace which 
lies at the foundation of every other, and which is 
matured, and confirmed, and deepened in us at every 
step in advance. 

Apply then, reader, the criteria, which you have 
just heard, in the examination of your spiritual state. 
How far is your Christian life internal, a thing hid 
with Christ in God, and to be manifested when He 
shall appear,—a thing of spiritual hopes, and fears, 
and joys, and aspirations ? How far is your heart the 
vineyard of God, fruitful unto Him of holy dispositions, 
and the diligent cultivation of which is your chief 
business, your one thing needful ? How far is it a 
little sanctuary of worship, screened from the outer 


283 


iv.] In what the Spiritual Life consists. 

world, where the light of a good and single intention 
aspires towards God continually, and sheds light upon 
all that is in the house ? 

Again; are we deluding ourselves with the ima¬ 
gination of possessing certain graces, simply because 
we have never been tried? Are we dreaming of a 
Spiritual Life, without an active manifestation of it ? 
Do we fancy ourselves contented because we are pros¬ 
perous and happy; or pure, because we are consti¬ 
tutionally cold; or forgiving, because we are never 
provoked; or peacemakers, because we love our own 
ease, and keep aloof from the affairs of our fellow- 
men ? 

And, lastly, if God indeed vouchsafes to us super¬ 
natural assistance, should not our virtues correspond to 
such aids, and have, about them a supernatural cast? 
Shall we content ourselves with the cheap, easy-going 
virtues of men of the world,—amiability, integrity, up¬ 
rightness, generosity ? Has not our Judge already 
asked us in His Holy Word, “ What do ye more than 
others ?” And must we not expect Him to repeat the 
question for each of us individually, when we stand 
before His judgment-seat at the great Day of Account ? 
Oh, may He stir within us now that spirit of holy 
emulation, that hunger and thirst after righteousness, 
which He has promised not to disappoint, that, when 
He shall appear, we may have confidence, and not be 
ashamed before Him at His coming ! 


284 


That our Study of God's Truth [part 


CHAPTER Y. 

THAT OUR STUDY OF GOD’S TRUTH MUST BE WITH 
THE HEART. 

“ But even unto this day , when Moses is read , the vail 
is upon their heart Nevertheless when it shall turn 
to the Lord , the vail shall he taken away ."— 2 Cor. 
iii. 15,16. 

We purpose to employ our few remaining Chapters 
in giving certain detached counsels, not falling under 
any of the heads which we had marked out for our 
argument, and yet which seem needed in order to give 
it completeness. 

In the passage which stands at the head of this 
Chapter, the intellectual blindness of the Jews is 
traced up to the wrong state of their hearts. And it 
is distinctly said that, when that state shall become 
right from having been wrong,—when the nation’s 
heart, which has hitherto been averted from Him, 
shall “ turn to the Lord,”—then the intellectual 
difficulties connected with the reception of Christ shall 
vanish altogether,—“ the vail shall be taken away.” 
Indeed, even without this statement of the Apostle’s, 
we could have gathered that this was the account to be 
given of Jewish unbelief. The miracles wrought by 
Our Lord and His Apostles were so stupendous and 
overwhelming, and the agreement of His career with 
the Predictions of Prophecy so close, that the convic¬ 
tions of that generation of Jews must have been 
carried by force, had there not been a predisposition 
in the heart not to believe. As soon, therefore, as 
this predisposition shall be removed, says the Apostle 
in the passage before us, they shall forthwith be 
convinced: “ when their hearts shall turn to the Lord, 
the vail shall be taken away.” 


rv.] must he ivith the Heart. 285 

We shall make this passage the foundation of some 
remarks which have an important practical bearing on 
the spiritual life. 

Men are well aware, quite independently of Religion, 
that the understanding is liable to be prejudiced by the 
heart. They have embodied this truth, taught them 
by every day’s experience, in the old saw, “ Love 
is blind.” We are quite conscious of being partial to 
the faults and weaknesses of those in whom our hearts 
are deeply interested. We should exclude from the 
trial of a man’s cause both his warm friends and his 
bitter foes, because we account strong sympathies or 
antipathies prejudicial to the judgment. And as, for 
the most part, we love ourselves better than other 
people, a man of fair mind would exclude himself from 
any share of an arbitration in which he is personally 
interested. But the proverb extends to our judgment 
of things, quite as much as to our judgment of persons. 
Consider only this very common case in the experience 
of all of us. A man, in his cool moments, sees some 
practice which requires a momentary effort,—say, for 
the sake of illustration, early rising,—to be healthful 
and expedient for him. While he is not under the 
temptation, the practice seems to have all arguments 
in its favour, nothing against it; but as soon as ever 
the will becomes biassed towards a longer indulgence of 
sleep on a particular morning, what a number of most 
ingenious arguments spring up in the mind for this 
longer sleep ! In the raw and chilly morning, the 
question of early rising seems to wear a wholly new 
aspect, just as if a case at law, the determination of 
which, on its being simply stated, seemed a matter of 
common sense, had been argued before us by a very 
plausible and specious advocate. In truth, it has been 
so argued before us, and the advocate has been our 
own will, propense to indolence, averse to exertion. 
This is a very humble instance, but, though humble, 
it is one which may come home to all, of the way in 
which the bias of the will (or, in other words, the 
heart) affects the view which the mind takes of any 


286 


That our Study of God's Truth [part 

subject. In short, the mind of man,—the faculty by 
which he discerns Truth,—may be compared to an eye 
placed above a fuming caldron, which can see nothing 
clearly, because the vapours intercept the vision. 
The heart is the caldron, and sends up the vapours 
which distort the view. Now in seeking to reform 
Human Nature, the philosophers of antiquity either 
did not notice this fact, or (which is the more probable 
hypothesis) did not see how the difficulty which it 
presents could be surmounted. At all events, by way 
of persuading men to virtue, they made their appeal to 
the understanding, and sought to carry their point by 
convincing the mind. Socrates, the first and greatest 
of all the ancient philosophers who dealt with moral 
truth, adopted this method. He saw (and here he was 
right) that men were not so fallen, that their moral 
sense made no response to Truth and Reason. And he 
thought (and here he was grievously mistaken) that 
Truth and Reason, if forced upon men powerfully 
and luminously, might hold their own against the 
strength of passion. He commenced, therefore, by 
arguing with all those who encountered him, as to the 
truth and reasonableness of their ways of acting and 
thinking; he called in question popular sentiments 
and conduct, and pressed men to defend them, if they 
could, by sheer argument, from which all superfluous 
words were to be carefully excluded. If they could 
not defend their own sentiments and conduct, the 
implication was, of course, that they must, as reason¬ 
able beings, abandon them. As far as the understand¬ 
ing went, nothing could be more conclusive, nothing 
could more shut a man up to follow virtue, than did 
this method of Socrates’s. But what if men do not, 
as notoriously they do not, conclude moral questions 
affecting themselves, on the mere verdict of the 
understanding ? What if they set the will on the 
judgment-seat ? give him the power of summing up, 
and reviewing the arguments of the understanding, and 
finally act, not as they see to be right, but as they 
wish to act, in moments of temptation? Unless you 


lv -] must he with the Heart. 287 

can rectify the will and its prepossessions, you only 
argue before a corrupted judge, and in the sentence 
the argument goes for nothing. 

Christianity, in seeking to reform mankind, proceeds 
on a method entirely the reverse of this. It makes its 
fiist appeal to the affections, which are the springs 
of the will, and through them clears and rectifies the 
understanding. 

Historically, Christianity commenced thus. It com¬ 
menced with the career upon Earth, of Our Lord Jesus 
Christ, a career, which, although He taught spiritual 
Truth, was by no means one of an ordinary teacher. 
He was the good Shepherd, who came down from 
Heaven to seek the stray sheep in the wilderness of 
the world. No tale has so deep a pathos as the tale of 
this search after the lost sheep. It cost the Shepherd 
every species of hardship and endurance; it cost Him 
“ strong crying and tearsit cost Him an agony and 
blood-sweat; it cost Him a most cruel and shameful 
death upon the Cross. He went through it all, not 
willingly only, but with the most joyful alacrity, to 
serve and to save the sheep. He met with no return 
from mankind in general, but calumny, vituperation, 
execration. Often He had no shelter at night, (so 
inhospitable was the world to Him,) and was obliged 
to stretch His limbs upon the Mount of Olives, under 
the canopy of the trees, exposed to the inclemency 
of the weather. But with infinite forbearance and 
amazing condescension, He continued His work of 
self-sacrifice and love, knocking at the door, now of 
this heart, now of that, and waiting patiently for the 
response. He endured all things heroically,—became 
the very impersonation of heroic endurance,—for our 
sakes, that His voice might win its way to our hearts. 
And what did this voice communicate ? What may 
be said to have been the main scope of Our Lord’s 
teaching ? Is not the summary of it to be found in 
that verse, “ God so loved the world, that He gave Hhs 
only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him 
should not perish, but have eternal life?” Hid He 


288 That our Study of God's Truth [paeT 

not come to reveal “the Father,” whose Name was so 
perpetually on His lips ? Did He not come to declare 
the Father’s Love, the Father’s yearning compassion 
over every prodigal child, the Father’s infinite willing¬ 
ness to receive such child again to His home ? Was 
not that Apostolic exhortation only a prolonging of 
the echoes of the Saviour’s voice: “We pray you, as 
though God did beseech you by us, be ye reconciled to 
God?” Now we say that these facts, the facts of the 
life and sufferings and teaching of Christ, lie at the 
foundation of Christianity,—that these are the imple¬ 
ments with which Christianity works,—that this is the 
method in which God approached men with the view 
of achieving their reformation. He came not with an 
argument, though Apostles illustrated the truth by 
argument; He came not with a dogma, though the 
Christian Creed, when fully developed, embraces many 
dogmas ; but He came with the pathos of self-devoted, 
self-sacrificing Love. The Holy Gospels, which record 
the history of this coming, are the first, and in every 
way the most important books, in the canon of the 
New Testament. Let any one read them with 
thorough simplicity for the first time in his life ; or if 
not for the first time, yet disenchanting himself, if he 
can do so, of the effect of familiarity with the contents; 
and he cannot fail to be touched by them in a salutary 
way, especially by the concluding part of the great 
story. Aristotle tells us that Tragedy, presenting as 
it does some example of virtue under stress of trial, 
purifies the passions, and clears them of their dregs. 
There is no such specific for the production of this 
effect, as the Tragedy of the Death of Christ. He 
who has been drawn by the Spirit of Grace to look on 
that Tragedy, (and those who are not so drawn find 
nothing in it attractive,) has seen and sympathized 
with persecuted Goodness. And we do not believe 
that such an one will find any difficulty in the 
doctrines of the Gospel,—that of the Atonement, foi 
example,—when formally propounded. If he assaults 
that doctrine with his intellect in the first place, he 


tv.] must be with the Heart. 289 

will no doubt fall into endless perplexities on the 
subject. But let him. approach it by the avenue of the 
heart, through the door of the affections and sympa¬ 
thies ; and all its difficulty vanishes. 

But not only did the history of Christianity com¬ 
mence with an appeal to the hearts of men; but this 
is the order which Grace observes in its work on each 
individual soul. 

The Scripture says, “ With the heart man believeth 
unto righteousness.” Justifying faith is certainly not 
a mere intellectual conviction of the truth. That 
there may be such a conviction, quite independently of 
justifying faith, is plain from the fact that the evil 
spirits confessed Our Lord to be the Son of God, and 
from the explicit reference which St. James makes to 
this fact, when he tells us that “ the devils believe and 
tremble.” We are driven, then, to the conclusion that 
justifying faith is an operation of the heart, and by 
consequence of the will, involving a movement of the 
affections towards the thing or the person which is the 
object of faith. If any of God’s threatenings be the 
object, faith takes the shape of fear, which is an affec¬ 
tion. If any of His promises be the object, faith takes 
the shape of hope, which also is an affection; and 
if Christ be the object of faith, it then takes the 
shape of trust or love. Any how, it is well for us 
to understand that the mere satisfaction derived by 
the mind from external evidence,—the comfort of con¬ 
cluding, after a balance of arguments on either side, 
that Christianity is of God,—though it may be a very 
useful auxiliary to vital belief, has nothing to do with 
the essence of that belief. In all such belief there is 
a movement of the heart as the fundamental process, 
although it is quite true that, as the result of this 
movement, the mind is subsequently enlightened. 

All this will be readily admitted, so far as the 
earliest step in the Christian Life is concerned ; but we 
doubt whether it is sufficiently considered that every 
forward step in that life must be made on the same 
principle as the first. We believe that' every move¬ 
'll 


290 That our Study of God’s Truth [paeT 

ment of Grace, as well as the first movement, is an 
impulse of the heart. It is quite as true to say, “ with 
the heart man is edified,” as it is to say, “with the 
heart man believeth.” For there is no true edification 
without faith; and all growth in grace resolves itself 
into a growth of faith. 

Now let us somewhat expand and practically develope 
this truth, that edification is through the heart, and 
not through the mind. Let us mark what bearings it 
has on the conduct of the spiritual life. 

(1) Observe that testimony is borne to it by the 
universal experience of Christians. What is that im¬ 
palpable something, which if an inferior Sermon has, it 
succeeds in doing good, but if a superior Sermon lacks, 
it fails of doing good ? We call it “ unction.” A 
Sermon may be very logical without unction, admirably 
argued, perfect as a composition, original withal, and 
possessing the great merit of setting old truths in a 
new light; and yet as a Sermon it shall be indifferent, 
or at least indifferent in the estimate of spiritual men, 
because it lacks unction. And what is unction ? It 
is hard to define, no doubt, because it lies more in the 
manner of saying things than in the things said; and 
manner is always hard to define. Shall we err if we 
say that by unction is meant a fervent way of throw¬ 
ing out Divine Truth, corresponding with the fervent 
character of that truth ? Unction would be no merit 
at all, but the reverse, if the Gospel were to be re¬ 
ceived by the intellect rather than the affections. In 
any thing like a scientific demonstration of truth, an 
appeal to the affections would be absurdly out of place. 
But the Gospel is primarily and fundamentally an 
appeal to the affections. And it is naturally felt that 
for a man to make such an appeal without warmth and 
fervour in his own spirit, to make it as a by-stander 
who looks on from without, but is not himself in¬ 
terested, or even to make it in over-studied phraseology, 
picking and choosing the words which are used, is to 
adopt a style unsuitable to the subject-matter. Men 
know that the Gospel is designed to meet their 


IVo] must be with the Heart. 291 

sympathies ; and if it should be presented to them in 
such a manner as not to do this, they feel that it is 
wronged and misrepresented. 

(2) Owing to our not perceiving, or not remember¬ 
ing, this truth, that edification is through the heart, 
religious exercises are sometimes taken to be edify¬ 
ing which are not so. Shall I say that much of our 
ordinary reading of Holy Scripture comes under this 
head ? that it often resolves itself into a mere mental 
exercitation, and that not of a very high order—an 
exercitation in which the only faculties evoked are, 
Attention, Memory, and Comparison? We lodge the 
points of the chapter in our minds,—we call back one 
or two texts which convey similar doctrines, or perhaps 
merely echo back the same phraseology,—we ask our¬ 
selves how this or that difficulty is to be explained, 
and possibly invent some explanation of it; and there 
we make an end, with a feeling, perhaps, of satisfaction 
that we have not done amiss. This method of reading 
may be repeated until we become adepts as textuaries, 
and have the very words of Holy Writ glibly on our 
tongue. But oh ! what a misuse of terms is there in 
the phraseology so often applied to things got by rote, 
of which we say that they are “ learned by heart l” 
So far from being learned by heart, such things are 
often not even learned by mind, for sometimes they are 
most deficiently understood; and the very utmost that 
can be said in favour of such learning is that it lodges 
truth in the memory, which may expand and serve a 
good purpose at some future time. Has our study of 
Scripture given any bias to the will in the path of 
holiness? Has it at all stimulated the affections to 
the Love of God, or of our neighbour ? Has it nerved 
us against temptation ? supported us under trial ? 
opened to us a door of hope, when we were fainting ? 
has it prompted a prayer? or stirred in us a holy 
ambition ? By these and the like questions must its 
influence upon the heart be tested; and unless it has 
had some influence upon the heart, there has been no 
edification in it. 

v 2 


292 That our Study of God's Truth [past 

Let the devout man be upon his guard against an 
interest in Holy Scripture of a false kind. At first 
sight it might seem as if any and every interest in that 
Holy Book must be simply good, and deserving of 
encouragement. But indeed this is not so. And it is 
very necessary to notice this at a period when great 
intellectual activity is being attracted towards the 
Bible. We cannot wonder at the interest which 
attaches to the Sacred Volume even in a literary point 
of view. The earlier part of it is the oldest literature 
in the world; and, speaking of the Bible as a composi¬ 
tion, there is nothing which can rival it in simplicity, 
in grace, in force, in poetry. The very difficulties 
which it presents are beyond measure interesting to an 
intelligent mind. But even in the critical study of the 
Bible, which some are called and bound to pursue, it 
should be remembered that the great purport of the 
Volume is moral and spiritual,—that it is given “ for 
doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in 
righteousness.” If it be read without any reference to 
this, its main object, it must certainly be misconstrued. 
But if even the sacred critic must not overlook the 
moral design of the Volume, how constantly should it 
be kept in mind by him who reads for edification only! 
Let such an one hold the mere understanding in check, 
and learn to restrain with a very sharp curb his 
curiosity. Curiosity is the interest of the mind ; and 
what is needed for edification is the interest of the 
heart. It will be wasting an hour allotted to de¬ 
votional reading to spend it on the critical investiga¬ 
tion of a difficult passage. The difficult passages are 
not the most instructive; and many of them we believe 
to be altogether inexplicable by human research,—to 
have been left there purposely, with the view of 
proving our humility and faith, and to prevent the 
haughty understanding of man from riding proudly 
and smoothly over the Word of the Lord. 

The plain things of the Word, which “thou hast 
known from a child,”—which thou hast received from 
thy grandmother Lois, and thy mother Eunice,—are 


IV.] must he with the Heart. 293 

the really instructive things. The Creed, the Lord’s 
Prayer, the Ten Commandments, and such like rudi¬ 
ments of Faith; all saving truths are wrapped up in 
these; labour, and pray, and strive to have thy heart 
affected with them. 

(3) Finally ; let our studies turn more and more on 
that which is the core and centre of the Bible. The 
Bible is a revelation of God ; and the core and centre 
of God’s Revelation is Christ crucified. Many other 
subjects are treated in the Bible besides this; but this 
is really the pith and marrow of all; this wraps up in 
itself the whole compass of edification. In the Book 
of the Revelation we read of “ the Tree of Life, which 
bare twelve manner of fruits, and the very leaves of 
which were for the healing of the nations.” It is the 
Passion-Tree, or Cross, of the Lord Jesus, which, 
planted by faith in the hearts of His followers, brings 
forth there all the fruits of the Spirit, and even the 
leaves of which,—every slight circumstance of it, which 
apparently might he detached without injury to the 
stem,—are medicinal to the soul. Study then the 
Passion of Christ in all its details—the apprehension, 
the binding, the buffeting, the spitting, the scourging, 
the mockery, the gall, the nails, the crown of thorns, 
the burning thirst, the exceeding great and hitter cry, 
the Precious Death which crowns the whole. Study it 
with fervent prayer and longing desire rather than 
prying curiosity. Study it side by side with thy sins, 
which made such a sacrifice necessary. So, under the 
influence of the Spirit of grace and supplications, shalt 
thou mourn for Him whom thou hast pierced; and this 
tenderness of spirit thou shalt find to be the principle 
of growth in Grace,—the greatest of all motive powers 
in the spiritual life. 


294 


On Living by Buie. 


[part 


CHAPTER VI. 

ON LIVING BY RULE. 

“ Upon the first day of the week let every one of you 
lay by him in store as God hath prospered him , that 
there be no gatherings when I come ”— 1 Cor. xvi. 2. 

There is a discrepancy between this passage and the 
general tone of New Testament precept, which cannot 
fail to arrest a thoughtful reader ; and we shall en¬ 
deavour to turn to some account the inquiry, to which 
this discrepancy might give rise in his mind. 

St. Panl, the most disenthralled of all the Apostles 
from the bondage of Judaism, here gives a rule to his 
Corinthian converts on the subject of almsgiving. The 
rule was that on every first day of the week (or 
Sunday) each member of the Church should lay by a 
part of his substance, varying with the amount of his 
earnings during the past week, for the relief of the poor 
Christians at Jerusalem. The wisdom of such a rule of 
almsgiving is obvious. A considerable sum would thus 
be gradually accumulated, which though it might not 
appear formidable in its separate instalments, a man 
might hesitate to give in one lump. And then, again, 
such a rule ensured to the givers a gradual discipline in 
Christian benevolence, which would be far more bene¬ 
ficial to them, and a far greater test of character, than 
one great effort of it. A great effort may be made in a 
moment of excitement; but continual little efforts can 
only be made on principle. Lastly, by adopting this 
plan, the collection would be over and done before the 
Apostle visited them, and their minds would be free of 
the care and responsibility of it, and ready to receive 
the spiritual benefits of his counsel and ministry. 

There can be no question, then, of the policy of such 
a rule. Still, a rule it is, and it has all the properties 


295 


iv.] On Living by Buie. 

of a rule. It defines the exact method, and the exact 
period of the duty ; the sum is to be proportionate 
to the weekly earnings; it is to be laid by every 
Sunday. And it has all the narrowness inherent in the 
nature of rules; that is, it is not adapted to the cir¬ 
cumstances of all men. In the case of incomes not 
accruing weekly, but yearly, or half-yearly, the rule 
would require to be recast. The deposit would then 
have to be made, not on the first day of the week, but 
whenever the income accrued. And though the Apos¬ 
tolic authority made this precise method of almsgiving 
binding on the Corinthian Church, there is probably no 
Christian of modern times who thinks himself bound to 
the literal observance of the rule in question, however 
much we may be bound, as of course we all are, to the 
spirit and principle of it. 

But, as I have said, the passage is exceptional; it is 
not in accordance with the general tone of the precepts 
of the New Testament. They do not generally enter 
so much into particulars. They are not commonly rules 
at all; but great principles of duty; and unless they 
are apprehended as being such, they will certainly be 
misconstrued. 

It is even surprising, until we come to consider ft, 
when all the difficulty vanishes, what a dearth of rules 
there is in the New Testament. Who would not have 
thought, for example, that God would have prescribed to 
us a certain number of times for prayer daily ? How 
natural that it should have been said, “ Pray when you 
rise in the morning, and when you lie down at night 
and again, “ Attend Public Worship on the first day of 
the week or Lord’s Day.” Whereas instead of any such 
rules, we have simply the principles laid down for our 
guidance, “ Pray without ceasing.” “ Not forsaking 
the assembling of yourselves together.” “ Where two 
or three are gathered together in My Name, there am 
I in the midst of them.” 

The fact is, that any prescription of stated times for 
prayer would not have elasticity enough for a New 
Testament precept,—it would have too much of the 


296 


On Living ly Buie. [part 

letter, too little of the spirit, to be in harmony with the 
general tenor of the Volume. The subject may be 
regarded in this light. No law of Christ may under 
any circumstances be violated. His laws, therefore, can 
never be of such a nature, as that men shall be unable, 
under certain circumstances, to keep them. Had it 
been said in the New Testament, “ Attend Public 
Worship every Sunday,” the primitive Christians, while 
under the stress of persecution, might have often found 
it impossible to fulfil the precept. And modern Chris¬ 
tians, engaged in tending sick persons who cannot 
be left with safety, must, in the case supposed, have 
broken the command of Christ. Now Christ’s com¬ 
mands are no trifles, which may be lightly dispensed 
with; the very least of them must be magnified and 
made honourable by the punctual obedience of each 
disciple. Therefore these commands steer clear of 
all circumstances, because circumstances are infinitely 
variable; or, to state the same thing in another shape, 
they are capable of adaptation to all circumstances, 
because they prescribe the spirit, and not the letter,— 
the principle, and not the rule. “ Not forsaking the 
assembling of yourselves together.” Should you be really 
and lawfully hindered by works of necessity and love 
from attending Public Worship on the Lord’s Hay, 
you break no law whatever by absenting yourselves 
from it; nay, because God sends the hindrance in the 
order of His Providence, you are doing His Will in 
absenting yourself, and shall none the less realize His 
Presence, and receive His Blessing, in the sanctuary of 
your heart. Whereas, on the other hand, when there is 
no such hindrance, and when opportunities offer, you do 
forsake the assembling of yourself together with your 
brethren, if you do not avail yourself of them. The 
precept is free enough to give dispensation in cir¬ 
cumstances of necessity, while at the same time it is 
strict enough to secure obedience, where there are no 
such circumstances. 

Notwithstanding what has been said of the absence 
from Scripture of any specific prescription of stated 


iv.] On Living by Rule. 297 

periods of private and Public Worship, there are very- 
few Christians, it may be presumed, who do not regard 
morning and evening private prayer, and Public Wor¬ 
ship on Sundays, as a sort of law of conscience, to the 
observance of which they are in all ordinary cases 
bound. It may be said to be a rule framed out of 
Scriptural principles by the spiritual instincts and 
common agreement of Christians, that men shall pray 
on rising and retiring to rest; and that, as often as the 
first day of the week comes round, they shall assemble 
together with their fellow-Christians for united acts 
of prayer and praise. And these rules have been im¬ 
mensely serviceable;—have secured a large amount of 
real obedience to the Divine Precepts, which, according 
to the constitution of the human mind, could not have 
been secured in any other way. The value and im¬ 
portance of rules, however, is not perceived until we 
thoroughly understand the relation in which Holy 
Scripture stands to the spiritual instinct of Christians, 
and the respective provinces of the two. To this point 
we will now give our attention. 

The field of Nature, then, presents a remarkable 
resemblance to the field of Scripture; there are many 
points of comparison between them. One striking re¬ 
semblance is this, that Nature furnishes materials for 
all the arts of life, even as Scripture furnishes principles 
for all rules of holy living. There is stone in the quar¬ 
ries of Nature; there is clay in her soils; there is 
timber in her forests, and coal in her mines; there 
is fire in her flints, and the power of steam in her 
waters; there is food in her grains, clothing in her 
flocks, and beverage in her vines. The various arts of 
life develope these resources of Nature for the comfort 
and well-being of man. And these arts are of the 
greatest importance to that comfort. Without archi¬ 
tecture we must sleep under the canopy of the sky, and 
cross the mountain stream by springing across from 
stone to stone; without the weaver’s art we should be 
none the better for the sheep’s fleece; and without the 
industry and ingenuity of man in other forms, corn 


298 On Living ly Buie. [paet 

could not be converted into bread, nor the juice of the 
grape into wine. 

Now just as Nature furnishes all the materials of 
life, which art developes and makes up, (if I may so 
say,) for use, so Holy Scripture furnishes the materials 
for all rules of holy living, which rules the spiritual in¬ 
stinct and experience of the children of God extracts and 
draws up in form. No rule can be of the least service, 
whose material, that is, whose fundamental principle, is 
not found in Scripture. Every rule must be positively 
vicious and mischievous, whose fundamental principle 
Scripture contradicts. Thus, if any one should recom¬ 
mend, as a rule of holy living, the dwelling entirely 
apart from human society, on the ground that such 
society is often a snare, we should take that man back 
to Holy Scripture and say, “ This is a mischievous and 
false rule of yours ; for it is the will of Our Lord that 
His disciples should be the antiseptic salt of society, 
which they cannot be, unless they mix with it. ‘ I pray 
not,’ said He, * that Thou shouldest take them out of 
the world, but that Thou shouldest keep them from the 
evil/ ” ^phe rule, therefore, which shuts men up in 
the cloister and the hermitage, is as sure to come to 
a disastrous end, as is the house which has been con¬ 
structed in entire ignorance of the first principles of 
mechanics ; and whose roof falls in accordingly. You 
can no more construct a wholesome rule in defiance of a 
law of Scripture, than you can construct a sound build¬ 
ing in defiance of a law of Nature. 

Erom this very simple analogy, then, we learn the 
great importance, as well as the subordinate position, of 
rules. It was not the scope of the Christian Scriptures 
to do any thing beyond furnishing the principles of duty, 
just as it was not the scope of the Creator in Nature to 
do any thing beyond furnishing materials for the supply 
of man’s various wants. Yet we cannot gather from 
hence that rules are not absolutely necessary (to some 
extent at least) for a holy life. Man’s wants were 
surely meant to be regularly and comfortably supplied, 
though Nature furnishes only the materials for sup- 


299 


rv.] On Living by Lule. 

plying them. The mind of man was endowed with 
art, in order that he might invent, contrive, plan, and 
execute the different products of civilization,—bread, 
raiment, dwellings, bridges, and aqueducts. And one of 
the great ends for which the Church at large, and her 
individual members and ministers, have been endowed 
with the Holy Ghost, is to guide them in framing from 
the principles of the Inspired Word rules of conduct, 
which may serve as a material assistance in the attain¬ 
ment of that holiness, without which no man shall see 
the Lord. 

Accordingly, such rules have been, to a certain extent, 
framed, as we have seen, by the public opinion and 
general practice of the Church, which may be said to 
prescribe, at all events, private prayer morning and 
evening, and Public Worship on Sundays ; and which is 
adopting, if it has not yet universally adopted, family 
prayer either once or twice in each day. Further rules 
are given in books of devotion,—where you will find 
forms of self-examination and preparation for the Holy 
Communion, and other forms for an annual examination 
and renewal of our Christian vows. Other suggestions 
to the same effect are sometimes made from the pulpit, 
though (as we have before had occasion to remark) 
more rarely than they ought to be. But we are now 
speaking more particularly of the individual member of 
Christ, and of the part he should take in framing, or 
adopting, such rules, and embodying them in his daily 
practice. And on this point we desire to speak with all 
the earnestness and emphasis, which the importance of 
the subject demands. 

Let it be considered, then, how grave is the re¬ 
sponsibility with which each of us is charged, of keep¬ 
ing our own souls, and saving them alive. Let it be 
considered how the issue of our happiness or misery- 
through all eternity is suspended, in the marvellous 
arrangements of Divine Providence, on the conduct of 
threescore years and ten,—on the shape "which our 
characters take in that short span of time. Let it be 
considered again that, putting Christ and His cove- 


300 


On Living by "Rule. [part 

nanted Grace out of the question, we are utterly 
unequal to the bearing so great a burden under so sore 
an opposition, and must in an instant be crushed by it, 
if we undertook it in our own strength. Be it remem¬ 
bered, too, that this burden cannot possibly be shifted 
to other shoulders, but must be borne by ourselves 
alone. And then, from what we know of success, and 
the means of success in worldly undertakings, let us 
consider whether we are likely to succeed in adminis¬ 
tering this all-important affair, and to bring the conduct 
of it to a happy issue, without some definite plan and 
method of proceeding, wisely laid and faithfully exe¬ 
cuted. To some, indeed, it may seem as if the placing 
ourselves under any rules were for a Christian a sort of 
return to the bondage of the law, and an interference 
with the liberty of the new and spiritual dispensation. 
But be it observed, that the adoption of rules is recom¬ 
mended to Christians not as a bondage but as a help to 
the will, and as a discipline for bracing and hardening 
it. What Christian man of these degenerate days can 
say with truth that he has risen above the necessity 
of all such rules ? What Christian man could safely 
afford to dispense with the obligation of private prayer 
morning and evening, and of stated Public Worship, 
although these obligations are bound upon him, not by 
the explicit letter of Holy Scripture, but by the godly 
customs and traditional usages of the Christian Church ? 
The will of the best of us is lamentably weak and 
vacillating, and needs all the support and strength 
which can be given to it. This support and strength 
can only come from the Spirit of Christ; but then this 
Spirit visits us in the diligent use of the means. Now 
by general precepts, exacting a perfect and universal 
obedience, the will is not strengthened. The inde¬ 
finiteness of such precepts as to time and method 
renders them easy of evasion, and, when the trial comes, 
the weak will takes the opening which is left to it by 
the breadth and spirituality of the law. But when the 
precept takes the shape of a rule, and condescends 
to particulars as to time, place, and method, the will, 


301 


iv.] On Living by Rule. 

obeying it punctually, finds its power strengthened by 
such obedience ; and submission becomes easier for the 
future, until at length it is yielded habitually. 

How, then, since rules, if discreetly used, are so 
serviceable, shall we proceed in the formation or adoption 
of them ? Now, just as a little experience of our own 
physical constitution puts us into possession of the 
amount and kind of food, the amount and kind of air 
and exercise which suits us best, so a slight experience 
of the spiritual life, if it be but an earnest one, soon 
teaches us what restrictions it is important to lay upon 
ourselves, what should be our leading resolves, and 
what form and length of devotion is suitable and expe¬ 
dient for us. Minds are almost infinitely various; and 
according to the character of our own mind must be 
the discipline we allot to it. Some persons can pro¬ 
fitably go through much longer devotions than others; 
because some are naturally more recollected, and some 
more dissipated by external things. Persons in rude 
health and high spirits will need external mortification 
in things innocent, to a degree which might be ex¬ 
tremely prejudicial to those in whom the tone of 
animal fife is always feeble. Persons called to much 
active business must study how they may make their 
devotions very short, very frequent, and very fervent; 
those who have leisure will be able to consecrate a 
larger portion of it to direct acts of worship, and will 
find their account in doing so. Then, as to the de¬ 
sirableness of frequent Communion, this will vary much 
with the temperament and circumstances of each 
individual, as well as with his progress in the spiritual 
life, and the quiet opportunities which he can manage 
to secure beforehand. Let each man do in this matter 
as in his conscience he thinks to be best for himself, 
and, according to the Apostolic rule of love, neither 
judge his brother as a formalist, because he partakes 
often of that most blessed Sacrament, nor despise him 
as irreligious, because he finds a rarer celebration more 
profitable at present. Again, as to almsgiving, some 
rule surely must be felt by all of us to be urgently 


302 


On Living by Hide. [pabt 

needed ; and here, especially, the form and shape which 
the duty will take will be almost infinitely various. 
Let each man only make sure of securing by his practice 
the principle, which is that God has a claim upon a 
certain fair proportion of our annual income, which 
portion is literally not ours but His ; and that to with¬ 
hold from Him such a proportion, independently of 
the dishonour done to Him thereby, is as likely to be 
prejudicial to our spiritual interests as the withholding 
from Him a portion of our time for the exercises of 
devotion. Let this principle be deeply settled in the 
mind; and then the details adjusted honestly in ac¬ 
cordance with it. Though the subject is one which 
defies, more than any other, all attempts at a general 
rule, the method prescribed by the Apostle to the 
Corinthians may perhaps be found serviceable, and in 
many cases would be quite practicable, that of laying 
by in reserve a certain portion of money, as our income 
accrues. The doing this regularly and punctually 
might very likely free the mind from those perplexing 
considerations, as to whether we are doing our duty in 
this matter of almsgiving, which are apt at times to 
harass all earnest and thoughtful Christians. And to 
he rid of perplexities is a great point gained towards 
holy living. It is not easy to grow in grace, while the 
mind is in a tangle, and the will in a state of hesitation 
and unsettlement. 

Finally, (and passing over without notice many 
points which might be touched, but which the mind of 
the reader must supply,) specific resolutions are of the 
greatest service in the Spiritual Life. They must be 
framed upon the knowledge of our weak points and be¬ 
setting sins; and it is well every morning to draw up 
one or more of them, after a foresight of the temp¬ 
tations to which we are liable to be exposed, and the 
circumstances by which we are likely to be surrounded. 
Let it be remembered generally that nothing is so 
likely to destroy that recollectedness of mind, which is 
the very atmosphere of the Spiritual Life, as unexpected 
incidents for which we are in no wise prepared, and 


303 


Iy.] On Living by Buie. 

which often stir in us sudden impulses of almost uncon¬ 
trollable feeling. We cannot, of course, foresee all such 
incidents ; hut still there are many of them, which, from 
a survey of the day, we may think likely to arise. Let 
us arm ourselves for them, when they do come, by a 
holy resolution, which will take its shape from the 
peculiar nature of the temptation offered,—a resolution 
perhaps to busy ourselves in some useful work, and so 
divert the mind, or to give a soft answer which turns 
away wrath, or to repeat secretly a verse of some 
favourite hymn, or only to cast a mental glance on 
Christ crucified, which indeed is the most sovereign re¬ 
medy against temptation known in the spiritual world. 

In any case let our rules be such as may be easily and 
cheerfully observed, remembering that we are to serve 
God in the newness of the spirit, not in the oldness of 
the letter. Let the object he to make them a help, not 
to convert them into a penance. And let their in¬ 
feriority and subserviency to the principle on which they 
are founded he always kept in mind. Let them not be 
easily dispensed with when once made; and yet let there 
be no foolish superstitious scruple about dispensing 
with them when real necessity arises. Oh, who shall 
teach the one-sided mind of man the true middle path 
between the bondage of observances (which is the 
bondage of Judaism), and that spurious (so-called) free¬ 
dom, which affects to disdain self-discipline, and refuses 
to acknowledge itself under the Law to Christ! God 
will show us the path, if we will not lean to our own 
understanding, but follow, with the simplicity and 
docility of children, the guidance of His hand. 


304 


Of the Mischief and Danger [part 


CHAPTER VII. 

OF THE MISCHIEF AND DANGER OF EXAGGERATIONS 
IN RELIGION. 

“ Let us prophesy according to the proportion of faith.” 

Rom. xii. 6. 

Lord Bacon somewhere compares religion to the sun, 
which has two contrary effects upon live and dead 
animal substances. Live animal substances,—the living 
body of man, for example,—the sun invigorates, and 
cheers, and promotes the functions of life in them. 
But in dead animal substances the sun breeds worms, 
and turns them to corruption. Similarly, he says, 
religion invigorates a sound mind, and cheers a sound 
heart, while in a morbid mind it breeds noisome super¬ 
stitions, and miserable scruples, and grotesque, and 
even monstrous, fancies ; the fault however not being 
in religion, but in the diseased mind, which is subjected 
to its influences. Such is the thought of the great 
philosopher, if these are not the very words in which 
he has expressed it. 

We have only to survey the history of Christianity, 
to see how eminertly just this comparison is. The 
Gospel, as taught by Our Lord and His Apostles, is 
holy, pure, divine, transparently clear, radiant alike 
with the glory of God and the happiness of man—of 
that there is no doubt; yet what twists has the mind 
of man contrived to give it, so that in some forms of 
Christianity you can hardly at all recognize the original 
draught, as it came from the Divine mind! What 
follies, fancies, superstitions, licentious doctrines, have 
founded themselves—not justly, of course, but with a 
most perverse ingenuity—upon the Scriptures of the 
Old and New Testament! 

This has arisen, not from any fault or shortcoming 
in the Scriptures themselves (God forbid 1 His Word 


IY -] °f Exaggerations in Religion. 305 

is, like Himself, perfect), but from a certain morbid 
tendency in the human mind to caricature truths pre¬ 
sented to it. I believe we cannot express the ten¬ 
dency in question more exactly than by calling it a 
tendency to caricature. A caricature is the likeness of 
a person, in which the artist has caught some of the 
leading points of the countenance, but has so unduly 
exaggerated them as to make the whole likeness absurd 
and grotesque. There is always a point of resemblance 
in a caricature, or persons would not know for whom it 
was meant; but the point is excessively magnified and 
thrown out of all proportion to the other lineaments, or 
people would take it seriously, and it would cease to be 
a caricature, and become a portrait. Now it would be 
very interesting to consider every heresy which has 
hitherto arisen, and see how in each case it has been a 
caricature of some one point of Christian Truth,—an 
exaggeration by which the fair proportion of the Faith 
(of which St. Paul speaks in the Epistle to the Romans) 
has been distorted, and a single passage of Scripture or 
a single class of passages, brought into undue promi¬ 
nence. We will take one or more instances from those 
heresies which are better known. The truth upon 
which the Quaker founds his whole system, is that the 
New Dispensation is spiritual. No truth can well be 
more vital, more important, or more apt, through the 
subtle encroachments of formalism (a sin which is at all 
times waylaying us), to be dropt out of sight. It is 
quite necessary for all of us to turn round every now 
and then, and ask ourselves whether we are properly 
awake to it. That the law, under which Christians 
live, is the law, not of a written table, nor of a written 
book, but “ the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus,” 
written on the fleshy table of the heart; that in place 
of a code prescribing or forbidding actions , our Legis¬ 
lator has given us a code of Beatitudes on certain states 
of heart and feeling; that in the Gospel morality what 
we do goes for comparatively little, and what we are— 
our motives and intentions—for every thing; that each 
movement of the heart is judged by Him who reads 

x 


S06 Of the 3fis chief and Danger [part 

the heart; that God is a Spirit, and therefore to be 
worshipped in spirit and in truth, and that, accordingly, 
to approach Him with outward ceremonial, exclusive of 
the heart, is as much an impossibility in the nature of 
things, as to endow matter with the properties of mind, 
and make a stone work a mathematical problem; all 
this is not only true, but precious truth, of which we 
require to be reminded continually; and the Quakers 
would have deserved the warmest thanks of Christen¬ 
dom, if they had done nothing more than brought 
it forward prominently, and illustrated it strikingly. 
But, unhappily, having seized this one feature of the 
Truth as it is in Jesus, they caricatured it. They pro¬ 
ceeded on the theory of a spiritual dispensation to such 
an absurd extent, as to rob the Ghurch of her Sacra¬ 
ments, the repositories and vehicles of that very inward 
spiritual grace, of which the Quakers themselves were 
the stoutest maintainers. If religion is spiritual, they 
argued, we must have nothing material about it; so, 
notwithstanding the Lord’s words, “ Go ye, baptizing 
all nations,” and “ Do this in remembrance of Me,” we 
will banish from our meetings the water, the bread, and 
the wine, and be baptized and communicate in the spirit 
only. It has always been the opinion of pious and 
judicious divines in the Church, that because, even in 
the Sacraments, the inward spiritual grace is the chief 
matter, Christians shut out from communicating sacra¬ 
mentally (by illness or other necessity) may do so 
spiritually in their closets by uniting their prayers 
and intercessions with that which is passing in the 
Church; but the actual renunciation of the outward 
visible sign, as the Quakers have renounced it, would 
never have entered into the head of any one, unless his 
mind had been possessed with some one idea, and he 
had resolved to make that idea stand for the whole of 
Christianity.—We offer another and more recent in¬ 
stance of a very serious error, which we fear is fast 
assuming the proportions of a heresy. It is the delight¬ 
ful announcement of Holy Scripture, which should 
make every heart bound with joy,—and it may be said 



it.] of Exaggerations in Beligion. 307 

to be the very most fundamental truth of our religion, 
that “ God is Love.” His Love He has shown by a 
Sacrifice which must surely have wrung to the utmost 
His paternal heart, if a similar sacrifice would have 
proved to a mere human parent the most acutely pain¬ 
ful of all trials,—the sacrifice of His dear Son, Who 
from all eternity had lain in His bosom. Certain 
divines of our own day have perceived this truth of 
God’s Love clearly. They cannot perceive it too 
clearly; they cannot proclaim it too loudly,—not if 
they had a hundred tongues, and the lungs of a Stentor. 
Down with all teaching, which by real logical inference 
contradicts this fundamental truth;—it must be false, 
unscriptural, mischievous. That our God is a hard 
taskmaster, requiring of us services, which will not 
ultimately make for our own happiness; that austerities, 
as austerities, without any spiritual end, are pleasing 
to Him and propitiate His wrath (a notion utterly and 
simply heathen) ; that only the Second Person of the 
Blessed Trinity smiles upon us with a gracious welcome, 
and that the brow of the First is always contracted 
with a gloomy frown towards sinners:—let these sen¬ 
timents by all means be demolished with axe and 
hammer, because they contradict God’s own testimony 
respecting Himself. But to go the length of saying 
that anger is inconsistent with love, (an assertion which 
the analogy of parental affection surely enables us flatly 
to contradict,) or to go the further length of saying 
that justice is inconsistent with compassion, against all 
experience of human justice; (for over what offender 
led out to execution, does not the heart of man relent 
at the last moment, while yet feeling the justice and 
necessity of the proceeding F) and to acknowledge no 
relations with God as a Judge, because He stands to 
us in the relation of a Father, this is a monstrous 
exaggeration, whereby the Faith once given to the 
saints is grievously caricatured, and its fair proportions 
marred. God loves me deeply, purely, intensely; longs 
to communicate Himself to me;—that is indisputably 
true, and I may take to myself all the comfort of it 
x 2 


308 Of the Mischief and Danger [part 

without a moment’s hesitation. But God hates my 
sin, detests it, brought Christ to a strict reckoning for 
it, and will never consent to save me from its guilt 
without saving me from the power of it too:—that is 
equally true, and I may take to myself all the warning 
of it, without a moment’s hesitation. 

These two instances are enough to show that very 
serious errors and heresies spring from not maintaining 
what St. Paul calls “ the proportion of the faith,”— 
that is, from giving to any one doctrine, however true 
and important, so great a prominence that it throws 
into the shade all others which counterbalance it. 

And he it remembered that, where there is no formal 
or actual heresy, the one-sided tendency of the human 
mind is nevertheless operative in religious persons, and 
may lead to a vast amount of unsuspected mischief and 
error, which shall corrupt their religion, and breed in it 
many morbid and fanatical fancies. In many spiritual 
books, which in the main are excellent,—perhaps I 
might say in every spiritual book, more or less, which 
is not the Bible,—a strain is put upon certain precepts 
of the Gospel, which not only caricatures them, and 
perhaps sets them at issue with other precepts resting 
on the same authority, but would have the effect of 
cramping into an unnatural state the mind which 
should strive after obedience to them. For example: 
The favourite maxim of St. Francis of Sales (a maxim 
which he was observed to repeat oftener than usual 
on the Christmas Day before his death—he died on 
the Innocents’ Day) was that “ we must ask nothing 
and refuse nothing ”—the fundamental maxim of the 
doctrine which is called Quietism. In one of his 
“Spiritual Conversations,” the subject of which is 
this maxim, he says; “ Do you ask what I desire 
should remain most deeply engraved in your minds, 
in order that you may put it in practice ? Ah ! what 
can I say, my very dear daughters, but these two dear 
words which I have already so much recommended to 
you ? Desire nothing ; refuse nothing . In these two 
words I say all; for this lesson comprehends the 
practice of perfect indifference.” 


it.] of Exaggerations in Religion. 309 

Now perhaps the first sound of such a sentiment 
may be to some ears attractive. A sentimental pietism 
might perhaps whisper, on hearing it, “ What beautiful 
resignation!” But is it beautiful, according to the 
true canon of beauty in Religion, which is conformity 
to the Word of God, and the mind of Christ? We 
admit that to refuse nothing which comes from our 
Father’s hand, however much our lower will, which 
shuns pain and suffering, may deprecate it, is the state 
of mind to which every Christian will labour and pray 
that he may be brought. But where has God taught 
His people to asJc nothing ? Where has He forbidden 
them, under suffering, to cry for relief? Did Our Lord, 
or did He not, pray, “ Father, if it be possible, let this 
cup pass from Me?” If He did, God evidently had 
not taught His only-begotten Son to “ ask for nothing.” 
And His Son’s Humanity was spotless in holiness,— 
He was clearly “ void of sin, both in His flesh and in 
His spirit.” Shall we, miserable sinners, presume with 
a frightful temerity to go further in conformity to the 
will of God than Jesus Himself went ? Forbid it, 
Lord! We will go to Thee in our troubles with all 
simplicity, and make known to Thee our request for 
relief, in submission always to Thy Will; and having 
preferred our request, we will leave it there in our 
Father’s hands, and account that we have thenceforth 
nothing more to do with it. But find a vent towards 
God for our burdened heart we will, because He Him¬ 
self has opened such a vent when He says: “ Ye people, 
pour out your hearts before Him.” 

Do you not see now how this holy man erred by ex¬ 
aggeration ; how in his dying sentiment he caricatured 
the grace of resignation ? Resignation no doubt is a 
heavenly and Christ-like grace; but if you will push 
it to any and every length, regardless of other precepts 
of God’s Word, and even regardless of common sense, 
(a very valuable aid in religion,) even resignation might 
become absolutely mischievous. Thus in countries 
where the weather is sultry, and the people constitu¬ 
tionally indolent, one might conceive a beggar con- 


310 Of the Mischief and Danger [pabt 

tinuing in mendicancy, and doing nothing to raise 
himself above it, or to improve his condition, on the 
plea that such was the Will of God, and that men¬ 
dicancy was the state of life to which he had been 
called. Resignation is the only precept which such an 
one recognizes; and he has forgotten that in another * 
corner of God’s Word there is a certain maxim, less 
chivalrous perhaps than resignation, but equally deserv¬ 
ing his attention,—that “ if any man would not work, 
neither should he eat.” This, of course, is another 
extreme case. I only adduce it, because it illustrates 
the fault which we are at present exposing and cen¬ 
suring. 

Be it remembered, in pursuing the tram of thought 
which we have thus opened up, that in the lives of the 
early Scriptural saints, who, next to Our Blessed Lord, 
are our great models, nothing is so remarkable as their 
perfect naturalness, and freedom from all affected or 
overstrained spirituality. The great Apostle of the 
Gentiles, whose name and fame is in all the Churches, 
immediately after a miraculous escape from shipwreck, 
bestirs himself to gather a bundle of sticks, and puts 
them on the fire (for St. Paul was not above feeling 
cold and wet) ; and when writing under the afflatus of 
the Holy Ghost, he bids Timothy bring the cloak 
which he left at Troas with Carpus, in anticipation of 
an approaching winter, “ and the books, but especially 
the parchments;” for what studious man—and every 
minister of Christ must be studious, if his ministry is 
to be effective—can bear to be without his books and 
papers? These particulars have seemed to some too 
frivolous for Inspiration, but they have a real purpose, 
and subserve a real end, if they show that even 
Inspiration did not destroy the perfect simplicity and 
naturalness of those who were the subjects of it. 
Among the early disciples you would have seen nothing 
overcharged in character or manner; nay, you would 
have seen little foibles, (not that these are to be 
imitated,) of temper, of superstition, of prejudice:— 
you might have heard sharp words passing between 


IV.] of Exaggerations in Religion. 311 

great Apostles, and a rupture taking place in conse¬ 
quence ; you might have heard even St. Peter roundly 
and publicly reproved for clinging to a prejudice; and 
you might have seen a damsel, recently engaged with 
others in prayer, which received a miraculous answer, 
in such a joyful trepidation of nerves when the answer 
arrived, that she opened not the gate for gladness, but 
ran in and told “ how Peter stood before the gate.” 
Most of us would thankfully acquiesce in being as 
saintly as the primitive Christians; and surely it is a 
lesson for us that there is in their sanctity so little 
over-studied, so little walking on stilts, so little of the 
forced unnatural attitude, into which modern books of 
devotion sometimes try to cramp the mind. In ancient 
piety there was not a particle of asceticism or of 
Puritanism,—which two things I mention together, 
because they are the Roman and Protestant sides of 
the same fault. 

How, then, shall the devout man keep his mind free 
from exaggerations both in doctrine and practice, and 
hold in check its natural one-sidedness ? An impartial 
study of the whole of Scripture is the corrective. Our 
Church may indicate the remedy. The bulk of the 
Old Testament is by her read through once, and the 
bulk of the New Testament twice, in each year. 
Those who will be at the pains to accompany her in 
the cycle of the four daily lessons, (a larger portion of 
Scripture than is read in any schismatical community, 
Romish or dissenting,) will thus have a fresh current 
of Scripture always setting in through the mind, and 
will find that this fresh current has a remarkable 
tendency to defecate the dregs of the mind, and to 
clear away those morbid humours which intercept its 
vision. Adopt either this method, or some other 
similar to it. Read with real openness of mind, quite 
willing to renounce any such preconceived views as do 
not square with the great Canon of Truth. Of set 
purpose study, and give their fair weight to, those 
doctrines, or practices, to which your mind is not 
naturally drawn. Pray for the Bereans’ nobleness of 


312 Of the great Variety of Men's Characters [part 

mind, in that they brought even the doctrine of 
Apostles to the test of Inspiration, and searched the 
Scriptures daily, whether these things were so. How 
much more, when men are not Apostles, but simply 
possessors of the mind of Christ, must their doctrine be 
thus searched and sifted! Much irreverent nonsense 
has been talked of late about a verifying faculty, but, 
(Grod be praised!) we have some more certain criterion 
of Truth in a verifying Book. It is true that there is 
no error whatever, which may not be bolstered up 
by an appeal to some part of the Holy Scriptures. 
Atheism itself, it has been well said, may be proved 
from the Bible, by simply leaving out the words, 
“ The fool hath said, in his heart.” But when applied 
impartially, without favour or prejudice, and in full 
view of the passages on the other side, Holy Scripture 
is a thoroughly safe and sound criterion. Do not 
merely read it, but imbue your minds with it. Do not 
merely quote it, (a very easy and somewhat poor 
attainment,) but frame your religious sentiments upon 
it, and then you shall bear a charmed life against error, 
and heresy, and all manner of morbid fancies and 
fanaticisms. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

OF THE GREAT VARIETY OF MEN’S CHARACTERS IN 
THE CHURCH OF CHRIST. 

“ As the ho Ay is one , and hath many members , and all 
the members of that one body , being many, are one 
body: so also is Christ .”— 1 Cor. xii. 12. 

These words, and the chapter from which they are 
taken, teach us that variety in unity is the law of the 
Church of Christ. The spiritual gifts with which the 
early believers were endowed were various; some were 
enabled to work miracles; some to speak with tongues; 



313 


rv.] in the Church of Christ, 

some to heal the sick ; some to prophesy; some had a 
supernatural insight into character; some interpreted 
the ecstatic utterances, to which others gave vent. 
“ But all these,” says the Apostle, “ worketh that one 
and the self-same Spirit, dividing to every man 
severally as He will.” And it may be added that not 
only did the gifts come from the same Author; but 
worked together also to the same end, the service of 
Christ and the glory of God. This is not explicitly 
stated by the Apostle, hut is quite as strongly implied 
in the image which he employs, as the former truth. 
In the passage which stands at the head of this 
Chapter, the Church is compared to the natural body 
of man. Now, not only is the life of the body one 
thing, in whichever of the members it operates; but 
also the members conspire together to one end. In 
fetching and reaching any thing, the design is formed 
by the brain; the object is seen by the eye; the feet 
are made to walk in that direction ; the hands subse¬ 
quently are raised to grasp the object. Combination 
for one purpose is quite as obvious in the whole 
procedure, as the interpenetration of the entire body 
by one life. 

Now, because we are prepared to expect a resem¬ 
blance between two children of the same parents, and 
between two works of the same author, we conclude 
that God also, in the different departments of His 
agency, will observe a similar plan and method of 
working. The organization of the early Church came 
immediately from God; and, therefore, if variety in 
unity was the law of this organization, we should 
expect to find variety in unity in other things also, 
which God has organized. And if in that which is on 
all hands admitted to be a work of God, we do find 
variety in unity, this will be .an evidence more or less 
satisfactory to thinking minds that the Church of 
Christ, which was originally constructed on the same 
principle, in which even now the same principle of con¬ 
struction is discernible, is from God also. 

Now, if we look into Nature, we find that the law 


314 Of the great Variety of Men's Characters [part 

which pervades the whole of it is variety in unity. 
Not only are the commonest objects by which we are 
surrounded totally different in species, colour, shape, 
material,—not only do they offer phenomena totally 
different to the senses of sight, and touch, and taste,— 
but even in the same species, and even in the same 
individuals of the same species, the diversity seems to 
be endless. It is said that no two leaves of the same 
tree, though of course of the same general configura¬ 
tion, ever match exactly, so as to lie flat on the table 
one over another with a perfect correspondence of 
edges. No two faces, even of twins, so entirely 
correspond, that an eye familiar with them by constant 
intercourse cannot in a moment detect the dissimi¬ 
larity. Indeed, in Nature the variety is far more 
apparent than the unity. Science, however, is con¬ 
tinually bringing to light an unity and simplicity of 
type in things which on the surface are most different. 
"What objects can present a greater superficial differ¬ 
ence than quadrupeds and fishes, both of which 
however, being vertebrates, are formed on the same 
general plan ? Nor is it merely a resemblance of what 
may be called ground-plan, but a sameness of agency 
which we discover in the different works of creation. 
The same power of gravitation which ties the planets 
to the sun, and retains them in their orbits, causes the 
sere and shrivelled autumnal leaf or the over-ripe fruit 
to fall to the ground. The same power of electricity 
which rives the strong oak, or shatters the tall spire, 
attracts light substances towards chafed sealing-wax, 
and forms the sport of children. The same refraction 
of the rays of the sun produces the rainbow in the 
heavens, and makes the tiny dewdrop under our feet to 
twinkle with the prismatic colours. Finally we can 
see tolerably clear indications that the various parts of 
the Universe are working together for one end. This 
at all events is the case as regards that part of the 
domain of Nature with which we are immediately 
surrounded. Very strong forces are at work in and 
around the earth j forces which, if allowed unlimited 


315 


IV.] in the Church of Christ. 

sway, might peril the planet’s existence; hut they play 
into one another’s hands, and hold one another in 
equipoise. The matter which is discharged from one 
part of the system reappears in another under a new 
form, and there serves some other function; so that 
each atom seems to have its vocation and its place, and 
to fill that place, and correspond to that vocation. 

Such is Nature,—an immense variety, knit together 
in unity by sameness of plan, sameness of agency, same¬ 
ness of object. And to step from the realm of Nature 
into the realm of Grace, the Word of God presents 
undoubtedly the same phenomenon. The Holy Scrip¬ 
tures are a collection of books written under a great 
variety of circumstances, and at a great variety of 
times, the extreme dates between which the different 
books range being nearly 1600 years asunder. And the 
Scriptures are as different in kind, as they are in the dates 
of their publication. In the short volume of the Bible 
we have histories, biographies, lyrical poems, dramatic 
poems (the Book of Job belongs to this class), apho¬ 
risms, prophecies, rituals, letters. No two compositions 
in the world can be more widely different in superficial 
appearance than the Book of Psalms and the Epistle to 
the Romans, the Prophecy of Isaiah and the Epistle to 
Philemon, the Book of Ruth and the Book of the 
Revelation, the Book of Leviticus and the Gospel 
according to St. Luke. Yet, in addition to minor 
features of resemblance, which concern only style and 
method of treatment, such as the thorough simplicity 
of all the narratives, and the entire absence from them 
all of exaggeration and rhetorical ornament, those who 
have studied the Scriptures under the light of faith in 
Christ Jesus, are well aware that, however dissimilar, 
they are one organic whole, knit together by a certain 
plan, and certain principles, which underlie the entire 
book. The prophecy of the Seed of the woman, which 
should bruise the serpent’s head, is manifestly the 
nucleus, the single cell (to take an image from the for¬ 
mation of a flower), round which the whole Bible has 
formed itself, of which the whole is a development, on 


316 Of the great Variety of Men's Characters [part 

which the whole is a commentary. The great steps 
of the plan which runs through the Bible are very easy 
to trace. A nation of teachers is first reared amidst 
various fortunes, knit together by the endurance of a 
common bondage, and impressed with marked national 
characteristics, in order that they may present a strong 
front to the prevailing idolatries and wickedness of the 
world; and in order that they may disseminate amongst 
other people of the earth the elementary religious 
notions which they had themselves imbibed from the 
Divine teaching. As soon as, through God’s wonderful 
dealings with them, they had been thoroughly imbued 
with these notions, they were dispersed among the 
nations of the earth, and made to sojourn there. By 
their instrumentality a class of men called proselytes 
are raised up in Gentile countries, who, attracted by the 
elements of truth which there were in the Mosaic re¬ 
ligion, adopt it, and become eventually the bridge by 
which the Gospel passes from the Jewish to the Gentile 
mind. The way having been thus prepared for Messiah 
in the hearts of men, the long-promised Deliverer 
appears at a time of universal peace, and when the 
union of the civilized world under one empire was 
favourable to the spread of the tidings of salvation. 
What remains of the Sacred Volume briefly records the 
rapid spread of these tidings, gives certain comments 
upon them, and predicts the complete triumph of the 
Messiah’s cause. Thus there is an uniform plan, run¬ 
ning through the whole of Scripture, and cementing 
together its various books, inasmuch as the entire Old 
Testament looks forward to Messiah historically,— 
represents the stages of discipline by which the Jews, 
and through the Jews the human race, were prepared 
for His appearance. And we well know that it looks 
forward to Messiah in another way, typically and pro¬ 
phetically, and that not only all the ritual of the Jews, 
and all the predictions of their prophets, but also most 
narratives of the Old Testament, foreshow His ap¬ 
pearance in a glass darkly. Thus in the Bible, though 
its elements are so various, there is a glorious harmony 


317 


!V.] in the Church of Christ. 

of design, and, as the whole of it emanates from one 
Spirit, a harmony of agency also. 

If then, both in the works of God, and in the Word 
of God, we find that variety in unity is the prevailing 
law, shall we not expect to find the same feature in 
the Church of God, which, quite as much as Nature, 
quite as much as Scripture, is His workmanship-, 
created anew “in Christ Jesus unto good works?” 
And this we do find. The members of the Apostolic 
Church had various gifts, the phenomena of which 
were different, some consisting in speaking with tongues, 
some in healing the sick, but all the results of the 
agency of one Spirit, and all working together for the 
glory of one Saviour. But it may be said that the 
Church of modern times is not furnished with the same 
organization as the early Church: that extraordinary 
and miraculous endowments have altogether ceased. 
This is true; but it is true also that all these super¬ 
natural gifts rested on a natural basis, had something 
in the natural endowments of the possessor’s mind cor¬ 
responding to them, and serving as the nucleus of them. 
Thus, for example, corresponding to the gift of tongues, 
we find in some persons a great facility of acquiring 
languages; corresponding to the gift of prophecy, we 
find in others a natural gift of high and fervid elo¬ 
quence ; some persons even now-a-days, though by no 
means original or brilliant, have such a wonderful art of 
imparting what they know, that we can hardly be said 
to have lost the gift of teaching; others are admirably 
adapted for government, for the control of other wills 
and the organization of philanthropic schemes; while 
even the gift of miracles itself, the most supernatural of 
all, rests on the power of mind over matter, of which 
power we have exemplifications in a natural way even 
now-a-days. 

But even putting out of the question the capacities 
and endowments of the human mind, in which we find a 
variety as great as in the miraculous gifts, this we may 
certainly say, that the character and moral temperament 
of each individual Christian is different from that of his 


318 Of the great Variety of Men's Characters [part 

neighbour. So it was of old; and so it is still. In the 
notices of the Apostles and other early believers, God 
has sketched for us not only edifying pieces of biography, 
but prototypes of all Christians to the end of time. 
Thus St. John represents the contemplative and stu¬ 
dious disciple. No single miracle is ever recorded as 
having been wrought by him; and in the outward 
spread of the Gospel, although no doubt he did his work, 
he is not nearly so prominent a figure as St. Peter, and 
does not for a moment reach the world-wide celebrity 
of St. Paul. Very thoughtful men who live much with 
themselves, are by no means so influential with others 
as those who, vividly apprehending certain simple 
topics, go forth to proclaim them without any profound 
reflection upon them. St. Peter governs with a firm 
hand, and with the now chastened and disciplined will, 
which belongs to an impetuous temper; he is the great 
bulwark and rock of the Church, breasting its perils 
and responsibilities gallantly, before St. Paul appears; 
Apollos is an eloquent declaimer who blends to the 
best effect his knowledge of the Greek rhetoric, with 
that higher knowledge, in respect of which he is said to 
have been “ mighty in the ScripturesBarnabas sheds 
around him, wherever he goes, the quiet healing influ¬ 
ence of a man felt to be good, and full of faith;—he 
has a still small voice of consolation for those upon 
whom the hand of God is heavy; Timothy has imbibed 
the lessons of piety with his mother’s milk, and, being 
trained up as a child in the way he should go, has not 
departed from it as a young man; but he is somewhat 
timid and pliable, and exceedingly apt to be moulded by 
a superior will; while Paul, in powers of physical and 
mental endurance, in the expansiveness of his affections, 
in his vivid appreciation of his own remarkable ex¬ 
perience, is God’s chiefest instrument for the diffusion 
of the glad tidings. These, if I may so express it, are 
some of the moulds in which Christian character was 
cast, when Christianity first appeared, and in which we 
may expect that it will continue to be cast now-a-days. 
The types are strong types; still, although modern 


319 


iv.] in the Church of Christ. 

days may show somewhat feebler impressions of them, 
they are still the same, although less marked. 

Now in what has been said there is wrapped up 
both comfort for ourselves, and a lesson of large charity 
towards others. 

1. Let us not distress ourselves, either that we were 
not brought to God, or that we are not now serving 
God, in the same way as some others, who seem to be 
models of a very exemplary and exalted piety. Certain 
preachers, and still more certain writers of religious 
hooks, construct a sort of Procrustean framework, as a 
model for all cases of real conversion, and intimate that, 
if you cannot accommodate your own experience to that 
stiff frame,—if you have never felt paroxysms of alarm 
at the threatenings of the law, or paroxysms of ecstasy 
at the announcements of the Gospel,'—your heart is not 
at this moment right with God. Nothing can be more 
erroneous philosophically, or more untrue scripturally. 
God’s ways of influencing the human mind for good 
vary infinitely,—vary first, with the original character 
of the mind, on which the Holy Ghost has to operate; 
and, secondly, with the acquired shape which that 
mind has taken from the circumstances in which it 
has been thrown, and from its whole history and ex¬ 
perience. On the same page of Scripture there is the 
record of two most remarkable conversions, as different 
from each other as any two processes of mind, leading 
to the same result, can by possibility he. Lydia, the 
purple-seller of Thyatira, became a Christian through 
the gentle opening of the heart, as by the quiet river¬ 
side she attended to the things which were spoken of 
Paul. The Philippian gaoler is converted, on the other 
hand, in a manner such as might be expected from the 
previous habits of ignorance and vice in which, we may 
reasonably suppose, he had been sunk. He is shaken 
with strong alarm, as if over the pit of hell, (nothing 
else would have broken bonds so firmly riveted,) and 
“ he called for a light, and sprang in, and came trembling, 
and fell down before Paul and Silas, and said, Sirs, what 
must I do to be saved ?” Lydia experienced no such 


320 Of the great Variety of Men's Characters [part 

alarm, but only a gentle opening of the heart, peaceful 
as the undulations of the river; yet was she none the 
less a disciple of Our Lord, and none the less dear to 
Him. The critical, all-important question for all of us 
is, whether we be indeed Christ’s at present, and are 
following the lead of His Spirit; if so, how we were 
brought to Him, whether by the quiet drawings of 
gratitude and love, or by the gradual growth of re¬ 
flectiveness, and our experience of life’s hollowness, or 
by the trepidations of alarm, is but of little moment. 

And then, again, as to our method of serving Him. 
This must depend on our capacities, our endowments, - 
the position which we providentially occupy, and the 
opportunities which it gives us. It may not be a high 
work, or a widely influential work, which we are doing 
for God, but then it may not be a high work, or a 
widely influential work, to which He has called us. 
We may , of course, be working below the measure of 
the gift which God has distributed to us, leaving the 
talent which our Master left with us unimproved, and 
not putting it out to the exchangers, so that at His 
coming He may receive His own with usury. That is 
a point to be looked to, and carefully considered. But 
the mere brilliancy of the position occupied by another, 
or the brilliancy of the gifts which qualify him for that 
position, should never make us indulge in an unquiet 
longing to be or to do what God has not fitted us for, 
and which, therefore, He will never require from us. 
If not called, and not fitted, (and the fitness is the 
evidence of the call,) we could not undertake such a 
thing without a most censurable presumption. “ I 
would undertake to govern a hundred empires,” said 
Dr. Payson, “ if God called me to it, but I would not 
undertake to govern a hundred sheep unless He called 
me.” 

2. But, again, a lesson of large charity to others is 
to be learned from what has been said. We ought, if 
rightly minded, to rejoice in the exuberance and variety 
of the spiritual gifts possessed by Christians, just as we 
delight in the rich variety of Nature, or in that of the 


321 


IV.] in the Church of Christ. 

Word of God. There are many lines of thought in 
Religion, many forms which practical and personal 
piety takes, although, of course, they are all animated 
by the same essential principles. St. John and St. Paul 
were both equally devoted to the cause and Person of 
Our Lord, yet no two men ever existed, who manifested 
this devotion in shapes more different. Both these 
members held of the Head by a living union, but they 
discharged for the Head functions altogether different. 
Let us not conceive of all genuine religion as moving 
in one groove of feeling and practice, and refuse to 
acknowledge any man as a Christian, because he does 
not run upon our own particular groove. There are 
several points of view from which Christianity may be 
surveyed ; and although it be one and the same object, 
from whatever point we look, yet eyes placed on dif¬ 
ferent levels will see it grouped in different per¬ 
spectives. Our own view of it is at best but partial 
and fragmentary ; let us rejoice in the fact that others 
see it somewhat differently, and that their view, in¬ 
stead of being contradictory to our own, is in fact the 
complement of it. It seems to be God’s plan and 
purpose that each individual Christian should exhibit, 
in the peculiarity of his circumstances, education, 
moral temperament, and mental endowments, a new 
specimen of redeeming love and grace. By various 
discipline here He fits and polishes each living stone for 
the place which it is destined to occupy in the Spiritual 
Temple ; and when all the stones are made ready, He 
will build them together each into his place, and exhibit 
to men and angels their perfect unity. Aaron has 
been bred under his paternal roof, and inured to 
Egyptian servitude from childhood. Moses has been 
lapped in royal luxury from his infancy, educated at a 
court, and then banished into a wilderness. But the 
time came when these brothers in blood, so dissimilar 
in training, so opposite in their experience, so different, 
possibly, in some of the judgments which they had 
formed of God’s ways, met never again to part in this 
life. “ The Lord said unto Aaron, Go into the wilder- 


822 Of the Idea of Sacrifice, [paet 

ness to meet Moses. And he went, and met him in the 
Mount of God, and kissed him.” So shall it be with 
all true Christians, whose history, discipline, sentiments, 
have here taken a course which seemed far enough 
asunder. A meeting and a greeting is reserved for all 
of them in the mount of God,—let them “ see ” to it, 
as Joseph said to his Brethren, “ that they fall not out 
by the way.” 


CHAPTER IX. 

OF THE IDEA OF SACRIFICE, AS PERVADING THE 
Christian’s life. 

“ An holy priesthood to offer up spiritual sacrifices, 

acceptable to God by Jesus Christ A —1 Pet. ii. 5. 

It is a rule all but universal, if we cannot say that it 
admits of no exception, that all known forms of Religion 
which have existed upon earth, have involved the idea 
of sacrifice as a leading and principal feature of them. 
The Jews, we know, practised sacrifice largely by 
Divine appointment,—practised it in every shape 
which the idea of sacrifice can assume. They had 
their sin-offerings and their trespass-offerings for the 
expiation of guilt, their thank-offerings in acknow¬ 
ledgment of mercies received, their burnt-offerings and 
meat-offerings for the acceptance of the worshipper, 
their free-will offerings for his spontaneous recognition 
of God out of the fulness of an adoring heart. In 
short, theirs was a sacrificial system, minute in all its 
details, and perfect in all its parts. Among the heathen 
nations of antiquity, we find floating shadows of these 
various offerings, looking like portions of the Jewish 
system disintegrated and broken up among the different 
tribes of Gentiles. Before meals, the ancients would 
pour out a drink-offering to one of their gods, they 
would make a votive offering to them after any great 
escape or deliverance, and, on occasions of public re- 



323 


iv.] as 'pervading the Christian's Life. 

joicing or humiliation, they would expose the images of 
the gods on couches before tables loaded with dainties. 
Whence came practices so universal in connexion with 
religion?—a question the more pertinent, because 
sacrifice does not on the surface approve itself to our 
minds as a reasonable form of worship. Independently 
of God’s appointment, we cannot say with truth that 
the slaughter of a poor animal, or the laying a basket 
of fruit by the side of an altar, seems likely, in the 
nature of things, to be a form of homage acceptable 
to the Supreme Being. No doubt, the appearance of 
sacrifice in all heathen forms of religion is to be ac¬ 
counted for partly by a tradition derived from the first 
fathers of the human race. The remembrance of Noah’s 
sacrifice after the flood would be carried away by his 
descendants into the various countries of their dispersion, 
and there, in lapse of time, degenerate and run wild in 
a thousand fantastic shapes. Meanwhile the holy seed 
from Noah to Abraham, from Abraham to Moses, and 
from Moses onwards, would retain the true idea and the 
true practice of sacrifice, which was a slip of God’s own 
grafting. We can scarcely, however, think that, even 
with the help of a primeval tradition, sacrifice would so 
long have maintained its ground among all the nations 
of heathendom, had there not been some common sen¬ 
timent or instinct of the human heart, instigating men 
to it. And such an instinct there unquestionably is. 
In the rudest mind which recognizes a God, there 
exists a desire to give Him some acknowledgment, 
which may be acceptable to Him, and a feeling that He 
has a claim upon us for such an acknowledgment, and 
will require it of us. Mix up this rude feeling with the 
universal instinct of guilt,—which is to dread a superior 
power, and to long to propitiate it, and then view the 
practice of sacrifice as meeting this longing, and on 
that account readily adopted; and we shall probably 
find here the explanation of its universal prevalence. 

It is a curious fact, as showing the hold which the 
idea of sacrifice has upon the human mind, that 
although all literal sacrifices were abolished, or rather 
Y 2 


324 Of the Idea of Sacrifice^ [part 

superseded, by Christianity, the great corruption of 
Christianity, which, alas! has prevailed more exten¬ 
sively than its purer forms, still recognizes a literal 
sacrifice as its centre. The whole system of Romanism 
revolves, if I may so say, round the Sacrifice of the 
Mass, which the priest is supposed to offer for the 
quick and the dead. The doctrine of such a Sacrifice 
in the Holy Communion is justly stigmatized in our 
Thirty-first Article as a “ blasphemous fable, and a 
dangerous deceit—it is one of the many grievous and 
frightful perversions of what is called the religious in¬ 
stinct. We adduce it here merely as an evidence how 
deeply rooted in men’s hearts is the notion of sacrifice 
in connexion with religion,—to show that there is 
something in us which longs for sacrifice, and will not 
be content without doing it in some shape or other,—in 
an idolatrous and corrupt shape, if not in that which 
God prescribes. 

It is vain, utterly vain, to seek to rectify errors of 
this kind by merely decrying them, or enlisting on a 
crusade against them. Human nature is too strong for 
us, and defies the effort we make to undo or suppress 
any part of its original constitution. Let us seek 
rather to show in what part of pure and true religion 
such instincts may find their satisfaction ; and then 
we may hope to draw men off from error effectually, 
because we shall be filling the void space in their minds 
which at present error offers to fill. 

As the foundation of the subject, it is obvious to re¬ 
mark that the Sacrifice of the Life and Death of Christ 
(for His Life, no less than His Death, was in a most im¬ 
portant sense a Sacrifice) is the very core and centre of the 
Christian Religion. From this centre the whole system 
borrows light and vital heat, as the planetary system 
from theSun. “He hath given Himself for us,” says the 
Apostle, “ an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweet¬ 
smelling savour,”—expressing here, we apprehend, the 
oblation of the life, thoughts, ways, and sentiments of 
Christ, which, as being altogether holy, were infinitely 
acceptable to a holy God. Again ; “ He gave Himself 


325 


it.] as pervading the Christian's Life. 

for our sins —“ He was made sin for us, who knew 
no sin —“ this man after He had offered one sacrifice 
for sins —“ He Himself bare our sins in His own body 
on the tree —passages which refer to the Sacrifice of 
Christ’s Death, the only real expiatory sacrifice, which 
has been, or can be, ever offered. By way of explain¬ 
ing this distinction, which is of great importance, but 
which may not be familiar to all minds, it should be 
observed, that the offerings prescribed by the Levitical 
Law fell into two entirely distinct classes. The one 
class were called sweet-savour offerings, and were for 
the acceptance of the worshipper; the thought in 
them was, man giving to God something which God 
views with complacency. The second class consisted 
of the sin and trespass offerings, and are never said 
to be of a sweet savour: in them the thought was 
man, as a transgressor, enduring the curse which sin 
has entailed. Our Blessed Lord endured this curse, 
when, upon the Cross, He poured out His soul unto 
death; as it is said: “ Christ hath redeemed us from 
the curse of the Law, being made a curse for us; for it 
is written, Cursed is every one that hangeth on a tree.” 
But before He became our sin and trespass offering, He 
had been our sweet-savour offering, presenting to the 
Father a human heart all aflame, as no human heart 
but His ever yet was, with heavenly love and zeal, a 
life wholly devoted to the service of God and man, and 
the only pure worship which since the days of Eden 
had ever ascended from the Earth. (I step aside for a 
moment to remark how utterly without foundation in 
Scripture are all such incautious expressions as that the 
Father viewed with complacency the Sufferings and 
Death of His dear Son; a totally different position from 
the undoubtedly true one, that those Sufferings and that 
Death were demanded by the Divine Justice. Christ 
in dying was offering the sin-offering, which was not of 
a sweet savour, and the idea of which was not man, as a 
worshipper, giving to God that with which God is well 
pleased, but man, as a sinner, bearing God’s curse. 
Justice must be had upon malefactors; but even 


326 Of the Idea of Sacrifice, [paet 

among men the execution of the death-sentence is 
never viewed with complacency or satisfaction. How 
shall it be supposed that the infinitely loving Father of 
all finds satisfaction in the course of Justice? But to 
return.) This sacrifice of the life and death of Christ 
is the essential foundation of every acceptable offering 
which can be made to God; so that we may call Christ 
in a figurative sense the only true Altar, apart from 
which our poor miserable gifts and services can find no 
acceptance. 

Observe, however, that it is the certain doctrine of 
Scripture that God requires from Christians,—not 
indeed a sin or trespass offering, which we could never 
render,—but offerings of sweet savour, as a testimony 
of their love and gratitude. I say emphatically, not a 
sin-offering. As far as Christ’s work was propitiatory, 
it stands absolutely alone. “He offered one sacrifice 
for sins“ He was once offered, to bear the sins of 
many.” But although no sufferings, no works, no 
worship of ours can in the least degree propitiate, 
though we are effectually precluded from joining in the 
expiatory part of Christ’s Sacrifice, God still requires 
from us offerings of another character. These are 
generally described as “ spiritual sacrifices,” which we 
are ordained to offer,—“ an holy priesthood, to offer up 
spiritual sacrifices, acceptable to God by Jesus Christ.” 
Christ is said in the Revelation to have made Christians 
“ priests to God and His Fatherand, if priests, it is 
of necessity that they should have somewhat to offer. 
More particularly, we are exhorted to the sacrifice of 
our bodies, the thought being that the various mem¬ 
bers of the body should be yielded as instruments of 
righteousness unto God,—the mouth to proclaim His 
word, the eyes to gaze on His works, the hands to do 
Him service, the feet to walk on His errands. “ I 
beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, 
that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, 
acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service?’ 
Again. JPraise is specified as a sacrifice;—“ By Him 
therefore let us offer the sacrifice of praise to God con- 


IT.] as pervading the Christian's Life. 327 

tinually, that is, the fruit of our lips, giving thanks to 
His Name.” And as the surrender of what we have 
will naturally follow, and be the just expression of self¬ 
surrender, it is added,—“ But to do good, and to com¬ 
municate, forget not; for with such sacrifices God is 
well pleased." And the same thought appears in the 
Epistle to the Philippians, where the sweet-savour 
offerings are expressly referred to, and shown to be 
competent to Christians: “ I am full, having received 
of Epaphroditus the things which were sent from you, 
an odour of a sweet smell , a sacrifice acceptable, well¬ 
pleasing to God.” 

It is extremely interesting to remark how, while 
carefully stripping the second Sacrament of the false 
plumage of an expiation, with which mediaeval super¬ 
stition had tricked it out, our Reformers have main¬ 
tained the doctrine of a threefold sacrifice in the Holy 
Communion, or culminating act of Christian Worship,— 
a sacrifice of alms made in the Offertory, and referred 
to in one of the passages just quoted,—a sacrifice of 
praise , adverted to in the words, “ we entirely desire 
Thy fatherly goodness mercifully to accept this our 
sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving;” and a sacrifice of 
self referred to in a subsequent part of the same prayer; 
—And here we offer and present unto Thee, O Lord, 
ourselves , our souls and bodies , to be a reasonable, holy, 
and lively sacrifice unto Thee.” 

Now out of the many forms in which a devout life 
may present itself to the mind, there is none perhaps 
more attractive than that of a constant oblation to 
God of all that we are, all that we have, and all that 
we do. Let the thought of Sacrifice be woven into 
the texture of our lives, let us study to turn not our 
prayers alone, but our whole daily course and con¬ 
versation into an offering; surely the thought that God 
will accept it, if offered to Him in Union with the 
merits of His Son, is in the greatest degree encouraging, 
—a wonderful stimulus to exertion. Some divines so 
cruelly strain the undoubtedly true and precious doc¬ 
trine, that man can do nothing propitiatory, or intrin- 


328 Of the Idea of Sacrifice, [part 

sipally meritorious, as to leave their readers or hearers 
under the conclusion that they can do nothing to please 
God. Because we are not competent to a sin-offering, 
they would have us believe, forsooth, that no sweet- 
savour offerings are open to us. A blank prospect, 
and very depressing to energy; for what can be more 
depressing than the belief, which is sometimes practically 
instilled, that by no frame of mind, or course of conduct, 
can the believer secure the loving approbation of his 
Heavenly Father ?—a tenet in flat opposition to those 
words: “We beseech you, brethren, and exhort you by 
the Lord Jesus, that as ye have received of us how ye 
ought to walk and to please God, so ye would abound 
more and more.” 

“ To please God,”—what a privilege to he open to 
us day by day, and every hour of the day! What a 
condescension in our Heavenly Father, when we con¬ 
sider the strictness of His justice, the impurity of our 
hearts, and our many and degrading falls, to allow us to 
please Him! That we are suffered to bring a tribute 
to Him, which, when laid upon the one true Altar, and 
united with the one true Sacrifice, will be received by 
Him with complacency and satisfaction, what a dignity 
for sinful flesh and blood to be heir to! Now if we 
truly appreciate this dignity, let us show that we do so, 
by availing ourselves of the many opportunities offered 
to us of pleasing God, by an acceptable tribute. An 
act of self-oblation, (couched, perhaps, in the very 
words already quoted from the Communion Service, or 
in others equivalent,) may usefully form part of every 
Morning’s Devotion, and remind us of the great 
thought which should run through the day. Then as 
to our devotional exercises themselves; the thought 
that Prayer is an incense, kindled in the censer of 
the heart by the Holy Spirit, and most fragrant and 
acceptable to God, if offered through the intercession 
of Christ, and with faith in His Sacrifice, may surely 
be a great help to us in offering Prayer. But it is the 
uniform scope and tendency of Grace, as it acquires a 
greater mastery over the will, to amalgamate the spirit 


329 


iv.] as 'pervading the Christian's Life. 

of devotion with our common actions, and more and 
more to transfuse Prayer into our daily employments, 
so that these too may become a sacrifice. We need not 
go far to seek the materials of an acceptable offering; 
they lie all around us, in the work of our callings, in 
the little calls which Divine Providence daily makes to 
us, in the little crosses which God requires us to take 
up, nay, in our very recreations. The great point is to 
have the mind set upon seeing and seeking in all things 
the service of Christ and the glory of God, and, lo! 
every trifling incident which that mind touches, every 
piece of work which it handles, every dispensation to 
which it submits, becomes at once a sacrifice. 

If in our daily course our mind 
Be set to hallow all we find. 

New treasures still of countless price, 

God will provide for sacrifice. 

We need not bid, for cloister’d cell. 

Our neighbour and our work farewell, 

Nor strive to wind ourselves too high 
For sinful man beneath the sky : 

The trivial round, the common task 
Would furnish all we ought to ask. 

Room to deny ourselves—a road 
To bring us daily nearer God.” 

If we allow the beauties of Nature to raise our heart 
to God, we turn them into a sacrifice. If cross incidents, 
which could not be avoided or averted, are taken 
sweetly and lovingly, out of homage to the loving will 
of God, this too is a sacrifice. If work be done in the 
full view of God’s assignment of our several tasks and 
spheres of labour, and under the consciousness of His 
Presence, however secular in its character, it imme¬ 
diately becomes fit for presentation on the Altar. If 
refreshments and amusements are so moderated, as to 
help the spirit instead of dissipating it, if they are 
seasoned with the wholesome salt of self-denial, (for 
every sacrifice must be seasoned with salt,) they, too, 
become an holy oblation. If we study even perverse 
characters, with a loving hope and belief that we shall 
find something of God and of Christ in them, which 


330 


Of the Idea of Sacrifice , dfc. [part 

may be made the nucleus of better things, and, instead 
of shutting ourselves up in a narrow sphere of sym¬ 
pathy, seek out, and try to develope, the good points 
of a generally uncongenial spirit; if we treat men as 
Christ treated them, accounting that somewhere in 
every one there is a better mind, and a trace of God’s 
finger in Creation, we may thus possibly sanctify an hour 
which else would be one of irksome constraint, and after 
which we might have been oppressed with the heavy 
feeling that it had been a wasted one. If a small trifle, 
destined to purchase some personal luxury or comfort, 
be diverted to a charitable and religious end, this is the 
regular and standing sacrifice of alms, recognized by 
Scripture and the Liturgy. And, finally, if we regard 
our Time as, next to Christ and the Holy Spirit, the 
most precious gift of God; if we gather up the frag¬ 
ments and interstices of it in a thrifty and religious 
manner, and employ them in some exercise of devotion, 
or some good and useful work, this too becomes a 
tribute which God will surely accept with complacency, 
if laid upon His Altar, and united by faith and a de¬ 
vout intention with the one Sacrifice of our dear Lord. 

Yes; if laid upon His Altar: let us never forget or 
drop out of sight that proviso. It is the Altar, and the 
Altar alone, which sanctifieth the gift. Apart from 
Christ and His perfect Sacrifice, an acceptable gift is 
an impossibility for man. For at best our gifts have 
in them the sinfulness of our nature; they are miserably 
flawed by defectiveness of motive, duplicity of aim, 
infirmity of will. “ The prayers of all saints,” what 
force of impetration must they have with God, if, as we 
are assured, “ the effectual fervent prayer of a ” (single) 
“righteous man availeth much!” Yet when St. John 
saw in a vision “ the prayers of all saints ” offered by 
an angel “ upon the golden altar which was before the 
throne,” it was in union with that which alone can per¬ 
fume the tainted offerings of even regenerate man ; 
“ There was given unto him much incense, that he 
should offer it with the prayers of all saints upon the 
golden altar which was before the throne.” 


331 


IY 0 Of allowing in our Minds, Sfc. 

The incense is the Intercession of Jesus. Place 
your offering,—be it prayer, or almsdeed, or work, or 
submission,—in His hands for presentation ; pray Him, 
as your only Priest, to transact for you with God, and 
He will do so. And the sun of God’s favour shall 
shine out upon that offering, and the dew of His 
blessing shall descend upon it, and you shall be glad¬ 
dened with your Father’s smile. 


CHAPTER X. 

OF ALLOWING IN OUR MINDS A PREPONDERANCE TO 
TRIFLES. 

“ Woe unto you, Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites ! for 
ye pay tithe of mint and anise and cummin, and have 
omitted the weightier matters of the law, judgment, 
mercy, and faith: these ought ye to have done, and 
not to leave the other undone.”— -Matt, xxiii. 23. 

In the course of our thoughts on Personal Religion, 
attention to what may be called little duties, if not 
always urged explicitly, has been the under-current of 
our thoughts throughout. Our regular daily life is not 
marked by noticeable incidents or great crises; the 
fluctuations of interest in it are homely and trivial. 
It is of this average common-place life that we have 
been endeavouring to show how it furnishes all the 
materials, out of which, under God’s Grace, sanctity may 
be wrought; and it is therefore quite in accordance 
with the genius of our subject to consider little duties, 
little sins, little trials, little self-denials, little cares. 
For of these little things ordinary life is made up ; the 
trials of our normal state are merely annoyances, not 
serious trials; its sins are failures of temper, or of the 
tongue, or omissions of devotion; its duties are often 
little details of business, or little acts of kindness, or 



332 Of allowing in our Minds [part 

a routine of correspondence almost mechanically per¬ 
formed ; its pleasures, when the first freshness of youth 
has worn off, are a smile, or an old association, or a 
quiet evening at home, or a genial meeting with a 
genial friend; its cares and responsibilities, though 
they may press pretty heavily upon ourselves, are such 
as a prime minister or a grand vizier would think 
beneath contempt. If Christian principle is to be 
shown at all by the majority of men, it must be shown 
in a common-place sphere of this sort; and it is exactly 
by showing it on these common-place occasions that we 
shall, under God’s blessing, and by His grace, brace 
ourselves for the heavier trials and more arduous 
responsibilities, which He may see fit at any moment 
to lay upon any one of us. What a dignity does it 
give to our daily life to remember that by consistent 
quiet maintenance of Christian principle on these 
trivial occasions, we may lay in a stock of oil, in other 
words, nurse, and cherish, and educate a faith and 
love, which shall burn brightly in the hour of real 
trial! Whereas he who despises these small occasions, 
and waits for a grand opportunity to exhibit Christian 
principle, as one waits for a gala night to let off a blaze 
of fireworks, is certain to break down when the stress 
of trial arrives. And it is because we think, as I have 
before expressed, that the pulpit too little addresses 
itself to small duties and homely trials; that it soars 
too exclusively among doctrines and the principles of 
conduct; that it speaks too exclusively the language of 
Tragedy, and too little that of common life, that we 
have been anxious to press home upon our readers, in 
this little treatise, the cultivation of Personal Religion 
in that sphere which lies immediately under their hands. 
And now, in sounding this note for the last time, we 
still feel how deeply important it is that it should be 
made to vibrate long and loud in the memory of the 
reader; how it is almost impossible that we can attach 
too much importance to such particulars of duty as 
improvement of time, control of temper, watchfulness 
in conversation, restraint of appetite, even on occasions 


833 


iv.] a Preponderance to Trifles. 

where it might innocently be indulged, and gentle 
bearing of disappointments. 

And we may say with truth that duties even lower 
in the scale than these, duties not moral at all, or not 
moral in their primary aspect, have yet their impor¬ 
tance, and, according to Our Lord’s admonition in the 
text, must not be left undone. It is the last touches 
of the pencil,—the fine finishing strokes,—which give 
to a drawing its completeness. And the Christian, 
remembering his Lord’s words, that “ whosoever shall 
break one of these least commandments and teach men 
so, the same shall be called least in the Kingdom of 
Heaven,” will labour to give to his obedience this 
finish and completeness by not neglecting even the 
finer traits of duty. He will eschew, for example, in 
every thing that pertains to God, the smallest approach 
to slovenliness. Slovenliness is irreverence in little 
things; and not the smallest approach to irreverence 
will the Christian tolerate. Thus, for instance, he will 
pay attention to postures in prayer, whether private 
or public. If Daniel kneeled upon his knees in his 
chamber three times a day and prayed; if St. Paul and 
the Tyrian Christians kneeled down on the shore to 
pray; if Our Blessed Lord kneeled when offering 
prayer in the garden; the Christian will feel that 
neither in his closet nor in the house of God is he at 
liberty to adopt any attitude, which betokens in¬ 
dolence, carelessness, or levity. And of another kin¬ 
dred point he will be observant,—a point trifling in 
itself, and yet having far more influence upon the 
general heartiness and effect of Public Worship than 
many a one which is intrinsically more important. In 
the services of the House of God he will join audibly 
in the prescribed responses, not contented without 
expressing aloud his assent to what is there proceeding. 
It is one characteristic glory of the Church of England, 
distinguishing her alike from Roman and schisma- 
tical communions, that the public prayers which she 
prescribes are really common prayers, in which the 
people no less than the minister have a share as well as 


334 Of allowing in our MincCs [pabt 

an interest,—so that the sacerdotal character of all 
Christians is recognized by our Liturgy, inasmuch as 
all are directed on occasions to join in it. Every right- 
minded Churchman will love by his practice to bring 
out this feature of our Prayer Book, and will feel that 
in doing so he is not merely complying with an 
ecclesiastical rule, but also doing something to kindle 
fervour of spirit in others by expressing the fervour of 
his own spirit. Be it remembered of all these lesser 
duties, that negligence of them is, to say the least, an 
extremely bad augury of fidelity in higher things; for 
he who is careless about the little items of obedience 
is usually reckless also about its large sums; and 
our Master spoke with His usual profound insight into 
human character, when He said: “ He that is faithful 
in that which is least, is faithful also in much; and he 
that is unjust in the least, is unjust also in much.” 

It is however quite possible that, through the morbid 
action of the human mind, which seems to corrupt and 
deprave every good principle which it touches, re¬ 
spectful attention to little things may degenerate into 
a punctiliousness and a wretched scrupulosity which 
shall drain off the energies of the soul from the larger 
and more spiritual duties of religion. 

This was the case of the Pharisees. While they 
paid tithe with unfailing accuracy of their smallest 
garden herbs, they did not seek judgment, or relieve 
the oppressed,—their sentences were unrighteous, their 
practices extortionate, and their hearts insensible to 
the sufferings of others. Men bring with them into 
religion their natural character; and in natural cha¬ 
racter, as in religious, you will find two extremes in 
regard to little things,—that of those who pay too 
little attention to them, and that of those who allow 
their minds to be wholly taken up with them. On the 
one hand, we have the old proverb already adverted to, 
warning those, who are careless of small items, that 
they may sacrifice thereby large sums; and there are 
notoriously men who need the warning,—who are 
quite heedless of small expenditures, and care only for 


IV.] a Preponderance to Trifles. 335 

considerable amounts. On the other hand, there is t<? 
be seen every day this very common phenomenon, 
persons of wealth, who will stickle and haggle at every 
little expense incidental to daily life, and yet be 
comparatively careless about money when it is to be 
given on a large scale; miserly in small things, and 
spendthrifts in great; their whole care about property 
being apparently that it shall not go off in drops and 
driblets, though for the great drains upon it they are 
not solicitous. These opposite habits of mind are 
imported into religion. Some men’s religion is all 
general, and, if I may say so, panoramic; they love 
large views of doctrine, broad principles of duty; like 
to have a distant spectacle of religion opened to them 
from the pulpit, but do not much relish admonitions on 
the minute and humble duties of daily life. Such are 
not, and cannot be, growing Christians; life is made 
up of particulars ; and with particulars these men will 
not condescend to deal. Some, on the other hand, are 
punctilious about little things, and forgetful of the 
great spirit of the law. It seems as if the account to 
be given of such characters was as follows;—that we 
have all only a certain amount of conscientiousness, 
and that, if this be all expended upon the more 
ceremonial and formal duties of religion, we have none 
left for its great moral claims. Let us glance at one 
or two of the forms in which this Pharisaic habit of 
mind, so strongly reprobated by Our Blessed Bedeemer, 
shows itself now-a-days. 

1. The late revival of a stricter and better discipline 
in the Church, and of a more reverent feeling towards 
ecclesiastical antiquity and the arrangements of our own 
Book of Common Prayer, though a thing to be very 
thankful for in the main, has given rise to a crop of 
petty discussions on points purely ritual or antiquarian, 
which may easily draw off the mind from subjects of 
graver import, and with many have actually that effect. 
We have not any of us too much religious zeal; it is a 
great pity to spend any of it on such questions as the 
make of a robe, the shape of a chalice, and whether one 


336 Of allowing in our Minds [paet 

or two collects should be said in the case of a concur¬ 
rence of Festivals. Generally speaking, such points 
are hardly worth the energy spent in the discussion of 
them. If indeed they are regarded simply as questions 
of antiquarianism or good taste, let them be left to 
antiquarians, and men of virtu. And if it can be 
clearly made out that there is a right and wrong, or 
even a tasteful and untasteful in such matters, let us 
adopt in Public Wbrship the right and the tasteful 
and eschew the wrong and untasteful; but let not 
such matters, under the insidious pretence of being 
matters of Eeligion, occupy any space whatever in our 
minds. In matters of Eeligion we want all our 
available space for the dear Lord who has bought us 
with His Blood, and really cannot afford any lodging 
for rubrics, however ancient, or ornaments, however 
decorous. Let our Churches be all fitted up in a 
style suitable to the wealth of the district in which 
they stand; and, as far as possible, to the majesty of 
Him, whose Houses of Prayer they are ; but, that 
being done, let us think no more about the building, 
but turn our whole attention to the living stones, 
ourselves amongst the rest, who congregate in it. 
Those living stones will outlast the fires of the 
Judgment Hay. Not so the pomp of our architecture, 
the marble shaft, the porphyry column, the chiselled 
capital. On all these is written the inexorable sentence 
of God’s Word, “ The earth also, and the works that 
are therein , shall be burned up.” 

2. Persons of a very different order of mind from 
those described above often are, in their way, as great 
sticklers for formalities. There is no such mistake as 
to suppose that those who inveigh against forms are 
themselves free from the power of them. The Quakers, 
who discard the sacred Forms of Jesus Christ’s 
appointment, are themselves the most formal of man¬ 
kind in their dress and in their language. None of us 
are free from the influence of forms, nor can we be so •, 
our only care should be to see that we allow not our 
own favourite forms to degenerate into formality, 


337 


iv.] a Preponderance to Trifles. 

which they will begin to do as soon as ever our minds 
are overmuch occupied with them. Catalogues of 
forbidden amusements, or precise rules as to the 
method of spending Sunday, are to some people what 
rubrics and church ornaments are to others; that is, 
they are the mint, anise, and cummin, which take up 
in the mind the space due to the weightier matters of 
the law. With the best intentions, (and good inten¬ 
tions are always worthy of respect,) they lay down 
certain regulations as safeguards, in their own case, 
against the sins of dissipation, gossip, vanity, display, 
and artificial excitements of feeling:—restrictions 
most excellent and helpful, if regarded in their true 
light as forms which are only valuable for the spirit 
which they enshrine, and, like all forms, capable of 
modification, adjustment, or even repeal, as circum¬ 
stances shall dictate. Too often, however, it seems to 
be assumed that so long as the form is secured the 
spirit is certainly safe, a fallacy than which there can 
be none more patent. Because a man has said his 
prayers, it by no means follows that he has prayed. 
And on similar principles, because a man has conscien¬ 
tiously avoided some public place of entertainment, and 
confined himself to the society of what is called a few 
religious friends, it does not follow that he has escaped 
the snare of dissipation in that society, still less that 
the few religious friends have bridled their tongues, and 
avoided all tattle, unreal profession, and censoriousness. 
You may sin by rash judgment at a tea-table as freely 
as in the gayest and most brilliant circle which can 
be gathered in a rich metropolis; and it may be a 
question whether there is more of artificial stimulant 
to the feelings in a theatre than in a certain class of 
novels. We are apt to smile at Romanists on fast- 
days, when, observing an abstinence from flesh, they 
are ready to gratify the appetite with every other 
viand, however delicate and dainty; but are we * not 
ourselves guilty of exactly the same absurdity, when¬ 
ever we maintain the letter of a restriction, while we 
allow its spirit to evaporate ? Are our Sundays 

z 


338 Of allowing in our Minds [part 

well spent, merely because they are quietly spent,— 
because we have given as little trouble as possible on 
that day (a most just and admirable rule) to our 
dependents, and have confined our reading and that of 
our children to sacred books P Alas! these restrictions 
are excellent; but even they will not infallibly secure 
the right observance of the Lord’s Day. Has the day 
been a delight to us,—a real refreshment of the inner 
man ? Or have its sacred hours brought with them a 
sense of monotony and dulness, which has led us 
virtually to say to ourselves, if we have not ventured to 
put the thought in express words,—“ When will the 
Sabbath be gone?” If so, despite of all outward 
formalities, must there not have been something wrong 
somewhere ? 

It has been our part in the foregoing pages to 
suggest to the reader several practices of devotion 
and several rules of life, which, under God’s Blessing, 
and if used with discretion, may be serviceable to him. 
And we cannot more appropriately close them than by 
reminding him that even rules of holy living may be a 
snare, and prove burdensome and entangling rather 
than helpful, if, in administering them to ourselves, we 
do not continually keep our eye fixed on the spirit and 
principle of them. “ The end of the commandment is 
Love,” a growing and ever deepening recognition of 
God as our tender Father through Christ, and of men 
as our brethren. To establish this filial and fraternal 
relation, the Lord Jesus came into the world; and to 
maintain, and extend, and consolidate it, His Spirit is 
now abroad in the hearts of His people. So far as 
rules of holy living help to form in our minds this 
view of God and our neighbour, they are estimable 
and precious; so far as they neither help nor hinder it, 
they are useless; so far as they obscure and perplex 
it, they are positively mischievous. Let our whole 
question in Religion be, how we can most grow in 
the love of Christ and of our neighbour, and in the 
perception (closely associated with this love) of the 
importance and value of the human soul. Let us 


339 


IY.] a Preponderance to Ih'ijles. 

measure that soul by its true gauge, by its likeness 
to God, in respect of intrinsic worth; by Eternity, in 
respect of its duration; and by the Blood of Christ, in 
respect of the price which has been paid for it; and we 
shall then have no mind for toys and trifles in religion. 
If we view a painted scene from too near a point, 
the objects represented are massed together inco¬ 
herently with one another, and the eye confounds 
the distance with the foreground. But retire to the 
proper point of view, and all things fall into their 
places ; the distance drops back and seems to lie 
beyond the figures, instead of toweling over their 
head. So if, in our survey of Religion* .we forget the 
two cardinal relations of man, which are its principal 
features, we shall lose the perspective of the picture 
altogether, and may mistake a remote point for an 
object in the foreground. But let us, as it were, fall 
back ever and anon, and view religion under those 
grand relations. God, Christ, and the human soul 
will then appear as the very front and centre of our 
contemplations ; and every other object will be scanned 
in the relative proportions which it bears to these three 
chief actors on the scene. 


340 


Of Improving our Talents. 


[part 


CHAPTER XI. 

OF IMPROVING OUR TALENTS. 

“ For the kingdom of heaven is as a man travelling into 
afar country , who called his own servants, and de¬ 
livered unto them his goods. And unto one he gave 
five talents, to another two , and to another one ; to 
every man according to his several ability; and 
straightway took his journey. 

“ Then he which had received the one talent came and 
said, Lord, I knew thee that thou art an hard man, 
reaping where thou hast not sown, and gathering 
where thou hast not strawed : and I was afraid, and 
went and hid thy talent in the earth: lo, there thou 
hast that is thine. His lord answered and said unto 
him, Thou wicked and slothful servant, thou knewest 
that I reap where I sowed not, and gather where 
I have not strawed: thou oughtest therefore to have 
put my money to the exchangers, and then at my 
coming I should have received mine own with usury.” 
—Matt. xxv. 14,15—24. 25, 26, 27. 

Two Parables lie side by side in Matt. xxv. which are 
the counterpoise of one another. The false deductions, 
which, by the perversity of the human mind, might be 
drawn from either of them, are corrected by the other. 
The Parable of the Virgins, which we shall presently 
consider, teaches the necessity of a hidden and interior 
life, (the oil being concealed in the lamp,) and that no 
amount of outward activity in the service of God,—no 
display of gifts, however brilliant, no profession, how¬ 
ever strict and high, will, without such an interior life, 
last out for the required period. Shall the Christian, 
then, it might be asked, live in and for himself, 
communing with God in his own heart, and allowing 
the outer world to go its own way and take care of 


IY -] Of Improving our Talents. 341 

itself, as if there were nothing real but his own con¬ 
sciousness ? Such is the principle of the monastic life; 
and it is a false principle. It ignores the existence of 
a neighbour, to whom, as well as to God, we have 
duties; and it ignores the gift, by which God qualifies? 
us for outward service towards His cause in the world. 
To correct such misapprehensions, the Parable of the 
Talents follows close upon that of the Virgins, and 
supplies one of the many instances with which the 
Gospels abound, of the perfectness of our Saviour’s 
discourses. It is as if He had said: “I have told you 
that you must not lose yourselves in the activities of 
Religion; but now I tell you, with equal emphasis, 
that those activities must not be suffered to collapse. 
Without secret Prayer, you can do nothing; but you 
must not shut yourself up from Service, under the 
pretext of giving yourself wholly to secret Prayer.” 

The great point and warning of this Parable lies 
in the history of the slothful servant; and it is his 
character, therefore, which we will strive to bring 
before ourselves as a living reality. Let us ask what 
sort of person Our Lord in the first instance con¬ 
templated ; and then we shall gain a clearer view how 
the Parable may be applied to our own circumstances. 

It is quite possible that, even now-a-days, a man 
whom God’s Providence had really called to the 
ministry of the Church, and more or less qualified for 
it, might shrink from undertaking the arduous re¬ 
sponsibilities attaching to such an office. The thought 
of the account which must be rendered by the pastor 
of the souls for which he watches, might terrify him; 
and natural indolence might conspire, as it often does, 
with pusillanimous fear, to make him decline a life 
which, to a conscientious Christian, can, less than any 
other in the world, be a sinecure. A man in this 
state of mind would be very likely to magnify, or 
rather to aggravate unduly, the obligations laid upon 
him, and to represent God to himself as a hard task¬ 
master, requiring from us more than He gives us 
strength to fulfil. But in the Early Church, when 


342 Of Improving our Talents. [part 

persons viewed the work of the ministry less as a 
profession, and more as a very responsible and ex¬ 
tremely arduous calling, the case which I have sup¬ 
posed to occur in modern times was of constant 
occurrence. It was no unfrequent thing for men, who, 
by the general suffrage of the congregation, were 
pronounced to he admirably qualified for the govern¬ 
ment of the Church and the Episcopal Office, to run 
away and hide themselves, when it was proposed to 
confer it upon them. Discovered in their hiding- 
place, they were dragged out, and consecrated by 
constraint,—made to serve God and their neighbour 
in the onerous and honourable position of a Bishop 
against their wills. Was any such grudgingly ren¬ 
dered service in the thoughts of St. Peter when lv 3 * 
wrote: “ Feed the flock of God which is among you, 
taking the oversight thereof, not by constraint , but 
willingly; not for filthy lucre, hut of a ready mind?” 
At all events it is in the highest degree probable, if not 
certain, that such reluctance was often manifested in 
the Apostolic age, when the emoluments and dignities 
of the Pastoral Office were little or none, and when it 
did little else for the holders of it, than set them up on 
high as a mark for the arrows of persecution. Under 
such circumstances as those, one can quite understand 
that a slothful servant of the Lord would he disposed 
to hide his talent in a napkin, and to use with his 
own conscience every ingenious and plausible argument, 
which might seem to excuse such a course. And one 
argument, which would readily suggest itself, would he, 
that he was, after all, meanly endowed for the service 
of the Ministry; and that but one talent—“ is it not,” 
he would think, “a little one?”—had fallen to his 
share. 

And here, perhaps, some explanation may be fitly 
introduced of a clause in our Parable, which causes at 
first a little difficulty to a thoughtful reader. In dis¬ 
tributing the talents, the master is said to have given 
“ to every man according to bis ability .” We are to 
understand from this, probably, that the spiritual gifts 


it.] Of Improving our Talents. 343 

of the early Church, of which, primarily, Our Lord is 
speaking, were distributed with a certain reference to 
what we should call the natural capacity of the holders, 
—that natural capacity, however, being itself from God. 
In the foremost Apostles, who had the greatest spi¬ 
ritual gifts,—in Peter, in Paul, in John,—there were 
remarkable attributes of natural character, which pre¬ 
sented a nucleus, if I may use the expression, for those 
gifts. They were all men of strong and well-defined 
character, and would no doubt have been men of mark 
any where, independently of their vocation to the 
Apostleship. That strength of character constituted 
their ability; and their gifts were the talents dealt out 
to them “ according to their ability.”—St. Paul was a 
wonderfully endowed man, even in respect of natural 
qualifications and circumstances. If any member of the 
Christian Church ever had great ability, it was he. He 
had a heart comprehensive enough to embrace mankind, 
and yet full of an ardent patriotism. His affections 
were diffusive; and yet we find them concentrated with 
great pathos upon his Corinthian and Philippian con¬ 
verts, upon Timotheus, his own son in the faith, upon 
Onesimus, whom he had begotten in his bonds. He 
was as hard as adamant to all the toils and persecutions 
of the Apostleship, “ ready, not to be bound only, but 
also to die for the name of the Lord Jesusand yet 
he was full of sensibility to others, and a man of many 
tears. As regards intellectual endowments, he was a 
most acute reasoner; and though the fervour of his 
beautiful spirit, which always kindled with his great 
theme, sometimes is allowed to interrupt the thread of 
his argument, it is speedily resumed, and prosecuted to 
its just conclusion. He had been highly educated, and 
was familiar with the learning and poetry of the 
Gentiles, as Moses with the wisdom of the Egyptians. 
In oratory he had that happy gift, which enabled him 
to take his audience on theirown ground,to accommodate 
himself to their sympathies, and to make their very 
prejudices the basis of his appeal to them. And as the 
crown of all his endowments, he had that courtesy and 


344 Of Improving our Talents. [part 

grace of manner, and that fineness of tact, which is 
partly native in some characters, but partly the result 
of good breeding, and a generous and wise discipline in 
youth. And yet this courtesy was not in the least 
degree alloyed with affectation, and consisted with the 
utmost plainness of speech towards pretenders and 
hypocrites. In these features of moral and intellectual 
character stood the ability of St. Paul—itself, be it 
remarked, like all natural ability, the gift of Almighty 
God. And in proportion to this ability he was richly 
dowered with spiritual gifts, and held ten talents of the 
Master, and made them ten talents more. His Co¬ 
rinthian converts were very proud of their gift of 
speaking with tongues ; “ but,” says St. Paul, “ I thank 
my God I speak with tongues more than you all” He 
cast out a spirit of Python from a poor crazed girl, the 
slave and tool of mercenary masters. He shook off 
from his hand a venomous serpent which had fastened 
there, and felt no harm. Inspired with a sudden 
memory of a similar act done by the prophet Elijah, he 
embraced a corpse; and the corpse, under his embrace, 
became warm with life. He struck a sorcerer with 
blindness. He restored instantaneously to the use of 
his limbs one who had been a cripple from his mother’s 
womb. Nay, even a handkerchief, which had touched his 
person, chased away diseases and evil spirits from those 
who laboured under them at Ephesus. He prophesied 
with such effect that profligates, like Felix, trembled, 
and could not endure it; and pious women, like Lydia, 
seemed to find in his words the dawn of a new light, 
and the inspirations of a new life. He was familiar 
with sacred ecstasy; and was caught up into the third 
heaven, where he heard unspeakable words, which it is 
not lawful for a man to utter. And, finally, “ he being 
dead yet speaketh.” He wrote, under Inspiration, with 
such power, that his writings have been from the 
earliest days the cordial of every believer’s heart, and in 
the sixteenth century became the alarum, which awoke 
the Church out of the lethargy of mediaeval formalism 
and superstition. And still, wherever the New Tcs- 


it.] Of Improving our Talents. 345 

tament is read, his perhaps is the strongest influence 
which emanates from the Holy Book. Such were 
the ten talents entrusted to the great Apostle “ ac¬ 
cording to his ability.”—By his side was another 
Apostle, endowed much less wonderfully,—having per¬ 
chance only one talent entrusted to him;—hut equally 
dear, and equally faithful to their common Lord. 
St. Barnabas was termed by his colleagues a son of 
Consolation. He was qualified, doubtless, by natural 
ability to console. He was deeply attached to his 
relations ; a soft and amiable trait of character, which 
sometimes, however, as it probably did in his case, 
indisposes us to listen to the stern voice of principle. 
He loved to promote unity between those who had a 
common object at heart; and he appears, accordingly, 
as the peacemaker between Paul and the original 
Apostles, who at first, from his antecedents, felt for him 
some amount of estrangement. He was a retiring man; 
and liked to put others forward, and see them filling the 
post for which God had qualified them. It is a gentle, 
unobtrusive character, such as this, which has a capacity 
for comforting; and according to Barnabas’ capacity, 
so was his gift. None can really and spiritually comfort 
others, however naturally qualified for it, except by the 
gift of the Comforter. Then, 

“ Warm’d underneath the Comforter’s safe wing, 

They spread th’ endearing warmth around: 

Mourners, speed here your broken hearts to bring, 

Here healing dews and balms abound: 

Here are soft hands that cannot bless in vain. 

By trial taught your pain: 

Here loving hearts that daily know 

The heavenly consolation they on you bestow.” 

The Spirit, then, with which Barnabas was endowed 
became in him, according to his ability, a spirit of con¬ 
solation. It might seem to some as if this were but a 
humble gift: only one talent out of the many, where¬ 
with the chiefest Apostles were endowed. Suppose 
Barnabas himself had thought so, and reasoned thus: 
“ I am not myself alone fit for any great enterprise; 


346 Of Improving our Talents . [pabt 

on such an enterprise I can be only second; all I am 
suited for is to whisper a word of encouragement to 
better men, when their hearts are failing, and to raise 
the drooping spirit of a Christian brother. My gift, if 
gift it can be called, is a quiet one, and will never make 
any stir in the world.” And suppose that, reasoning 
thus, Barnabas had resolved to make no use of his 
talent, because it was a little one,—to decline all 
Apostolic journeys and enterprises, on the plea that he 
could be but of little use, and that the responsibilities 
of an Apostle made his heart quake with apprehension; 
—his would then have been exactly the case of the 
wicked and slothful servant in the Parable, who hid his 
talent in the earth, instead of putting it out to the ex¬ 
changers, because he falsely reckoned that his lord was 
a hard taskmaster, who would exact a return for which 
he had never furnished his servants. 

What has been said paves the way for the appli¬ 
cation of the Parable to our own circumstances. 

The counterpart of the wicked and slothful servant 
is to be sought among persons slenderly, not brilliantly, 
endowed. It is comparatively seldom that you find a 
man of splendid gifts, and remarkable powers of influ¬ 
ence, not displaying such gifts, or putting forth such 
powers; for vanity is a strong motive force in the 
human heart, and generally urges a man to put out what 
there is in him, if he can at all gain credit thereby. 
Whence it comes to pass that those men who stand 
much above the heads of the crowd are generally not 
chargeable with indolence, however serious may be 
their other faults. But when we are entirely on a level 
with the crowd in point of endowments, then the 
temptations to bury our talent in the earth arise in 
their full force. And this must always be the case of 
the man}". The majority of men, (at least in countries 
where civilization has long prevailed, and the system of 
Society has long been running in a regular groove,) 
will always be mediocre,—mediocre in intelligence, 
in information, in position, in fortune, in strength of 
character, in short, in all those points which qualify us 


IV -] Of Improving our Talents. 347 

for usefulness to others. And the consciousness that 
they are so, will always be a plea with such persons for 
being nothing and doing nothing, for hanging about 
indolently upon life, without any special aim, and 
therefore without any special energy. There are many 
elements of feeling which lead to this result. Vanity 
here, as elsewhere, is on the alert; if we cannot be in 
the foremost rank, we will be nothing. Indolence is 
the next trait; a very subtle sin, as well as an exten¬ 
sively prevalent one, hiding itself often under the garb 
of modesty, and sometimes under the still more specious 
garb of love for a devout, studious, and contemplative 
life. Then, also, there is a cowardly shrinking from 
being pushed to greater lengths in Religion than we are 
prepared to go; a dread that, if we once put ourselves 
by our own act into the harness of responsibility, we 
shall be driven to a greater distance than we bargained 
for. Then, last, comes the wickedness which, together 
with the indolence, the master in the Parable stigma¬ 
tizes,—the ungrateful, unfilial, impious aspersion of 
God, as one who requires from us more than He fur¬ 
nishes us for. And so it comes to pass that we have a 
vast number of professing Christians, church-goers and 
communicants,—men perfectly blameless as far as moral 
character and fair reputation goes,—who have never 
even seriously inquired what the one talent entrusted to 
them may be, much less whether they are putting it 
out to interest, and securing a return from it. 

Reader, if this most important question has never yet 
been asked, let it form the subject of your next Self- 
examination. Rest assured of this, that one talent you 
have, if not many, however deep it may have been 
buried by your thoughtlessness and indolence, however 
much, by long want of use and currency, it may have 
gathered a rust which has eaten away the metal. What 
is it ? Is there any one to whom you may be useful in 
the way of influence, and who is continually thrown 
across you, but for whose good you have never yet made 
a single effort ? Are you surrendering for objects of 
Religion and Charity such a proportion of your worldly 


348 Of Improving our Talents. [paet 

goods, as a conscience, enlightened by God’s Word and 
Spirit, dictates? Have you any, and what mental 
endowments? And if so, are you cultivating them 
with an ultimate view, though it may he a distant one, 
to the Service and Glory of God? All advance of 
human knowledge is good and acceptable, if the Father 
of lights have the glory of it, hut contemptible, nay, 
mischievous, if it terminates upon the gratification of 
curiosity or of intellectual pride. Have you any leisure 
hours ? and if so, are they turned to good account ? A 
little time spent upon benevolent objects may be of 
more avail in promoting them than much money. Do 
we ever spend our spare time so ? Does your position 
and state of life give you any opportunity of usefulness 
to others ? And if so, do you avail yourself of such 
opportunity? If you can do nothing else for your 
fellow-men, may you not perhaps console them by your 
presence with them, and by the mere common-place 
intimation of your sympathy? May you not say a 
word of kindness or encouragement, or bring together 
estranged friends, or persuade able men to the course 
to which God seems to be calling them ? The trum¬ 
peter who stirs the spirit of the troops by a well-timed 
blast, contributes almost as much to the victory as 
those whom he animates. 

Generally, in what direction is your natural ability 
(itself God’s gift) pointing you? Look narrowly in 
that direction, and you shall soon see the talent with 
which God has furnished you. Having discovered it, 
you are to increase by putting it out to interest. The 
question must be, not simply how you may use it, but 
how you may use it in the most profitable manner in 
which it is capable of being used. Without being too 
ambitious—ambitious (to pursue Our Lord’s own figure 
a little more into detail) of a higher interest than can 
be had with security—how may the money be made to 
fructify most largely ? If there are two good uses which 
may be made of leisure hours, of superfluous money 
and redundant luxuries, of natural parts, which of those 
two good uses is the best ? That is generally speaking 


Iv -] Of Improving our Talents. 349 

the best, which has the nearest reference to the spiritual 
interests of men, which most immediately subserves the 
good of souls. This is God’s end of ends, and this 
therefore should be ours. 

Remark, finally, how hard thoughts of God, such as 
the slothful servant entertained, lie at the root of all 
unfruitfulness in Religion. No soul was ever yet, or 
ever will be, generous in its dealings with God, which 
has not first formed a large estimate of God’s generosity. 
We must perforce be niggards towards Him, so long as 
we think Him a niggard either of pardon or grace. 0 
for a juster conception of the intensity of His love and 
tenderness for us, of His unspeakable willingness to 
give us day by day, and hour by hour, all things which 
are requisite for the spiritual life! 

If we have ever so little sincere desire to serve Him 
and to be His, is it not absolutely certain, from the 
whole tenor of His words and deeds, that He will meet 
us more than half-way, and bring us on in the right 
path with more than a mother’s tenderness? He 
requires from us a very arduous standard of sentiment 
and duty;—granted. We have not for a moment in 
the course of these Lectures blinked its arduousness; 
rather, we have striven to cry aloud in the ears of 
all hearers, “ Excelsior! ” But does He demand any 
thing which He is not ready out of His Son’s fulness to 
supply ? Is He a Pharaoh, who, while He requires us 
to build a Pyramid, bids us go get straw where we can 
find it ? Avaunt the wicked and derogatory thought! 
For every responsibility which we have to meet, He 
offers to qualify us. For every height which we have 
to climb, He furnishes an inward strength. So that, 
whatever be our faithless forecastings before we fairly 
come up with our burdens, it is extremely questionable 
whether, while we are bearing them, the heavier seems 
more oppressive than the lighter. For the feeling of a 
burden’s oppressiveness must of course be proportioned 
to our strength. And if with a double burden the Lord 
supplies a double strength, it is exactly the same to our 
experience as if with half the burden He left us half 


350 Of Improving our Talents. [part 

the strength. Isaac leads a quiet life; and it is not 
recorded that any great revelation was made to him. 
Jacob is tossed with troubles, and in the midst of them, 
he dreams of the great bright ladder which spanned 
the distance between heaven and earth, and shadowed 
forth the one Mediator between God and men,-—the 
man Christ Jesus. The same is the law of the Chris¬ 
tian’s life; an easy pilgrimage, and no extraordinary 
support; a tempest-tost career, and a strong con¬ 
solation. We need not faint then at any prospect 
before us. Progress in grace may be arduous, difficult, 
impossible to flesh and blood,—out of the question, it 
may be said, while living in the world; but to all 
alleged difficulties there is one simple answer, “ He 
giveth more geace.” The cruse of Grace abounds, 
like the widow of Sarepfca’s cruse, in time of dearth. 
And so we will march bravely onwards, assured that, 
if the last failure of all should begin to overtake us, 
there will be a proportionally large inflowing from 
that cruse into the inner man. 

“ My flesh and my heart faileth; but God is the 
strength of my heart, and my portion for ever.” “ For 
which cause we faint not; but though our outward 
man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by 
day” 


IV.] 


Of the Interior Life. 


351 


CHAPTER XII. 

OF THE INTERIOR LIFE. 

“ Then shall the kingdom of heaven he likened unto ten 
virgins, which took their lamps, and went forth to 
meet the bridegroom. And five of them were wise, 
and five were foolish. They that ivere foolish took 
their lamps, and took no oil with them ; hut the wise 
took oil in their vessels with their lamps. While the 
bridegroom tarried, they all slumbered and slept. 
And at midnight there was a cry made, Behold, the 
bridegroom cometh: go ye out to meet him. Then all 
those virgins arose, and trimmed their lamps. And 
the foolish said unto the wise, Give us of your oil: 
for our lamps are gone out. But the wise answered, 
saying, Not so ; lest there be not enough for us and 
you : but go ye rather to them that sell, and buy for 
yourselves. And while they went to buy, the bride¬ 
groom came: and they that were ready went in with 
him to the marriage ; and the door was shut. After¬ 
wards came also the other virgins, saying, Lord, Lord, 
open to us. But he answered and said, Verily L say 
unto you, Lknow you not. Watch therefore, for ye 
know neither the day nor the hour wherein the Son of 
man cometh .”— Matt. xxv. 1 — 13. 

In music, the key-note, which rules the strain, also 
closes it. It should be the same with compositions. 
Every discourse, every systematic series of discourses, 
should, after running its round through a variety of 
propositions and illustrations, at length return to the 
chord originally struck, or, in other words, gather itself 
up again into its fundamental idea. We will endeavour 
to give our Thoughts on Personal Religion this com¬ 
pleteness, by setting before the reader, in rather a 
different aspect, at their close, the thoughts which 
originally gave rise to them. 

The 24th and 25th chapters of St. Matthew form 


352 


Of the Interior Life. [part 


but one Prophetic Discourse, (grievously disjointed by 
the division into Chapters, to the great prejudice of 
the sense,) which may be called the Prophecy on the 
Mount; and which corresponds to the great Preceptive 
Discourse of Christ, called the Sermon on the Mount, 
which is to be found in the fifth and two following 
chapters of the same Gospel. This Prophecy was 
delivered at a most solemn period of Our Lord’s career. 
He had closed His public Ministry amongst that “ evil 
and adulterous generation,” with eight solemn woes 
denounced in wrath against them,—but a wrath chas¬ 
tened, toned down, beautified with all the tenderness 
of that parting plaint; “ O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou 
that killest the prophets, and stonest them that are 
sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy 
children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens 
under her wings, and ye would not! ” Then, calling it 
their house, to show that it was no longer God’s, He 
suits the action to the word, and passes out of the 
Temple, as He utters that sentence: “ Behold, your 
house is left unto you desolate.” He then ascends the 
Mount of Olives, from thence to take a parting view of 
the City and Temple, and, sitting there, pronounces the 
Prophecy which is before us ; and which, springing from 
summit to summit in the long perspective of the future, 
carries us down to that division of the sheep from the 
goats, which will form the concluding scene of Human 
History. Our Blessed Lord had always loved to teach 
by Parables; and He continues this method in the dis¬ 
course before us. The ancient Greek dramatists used to 
mass together four dramatic pieces in one series, called a 
tetralogy,—each piece being often connected with the 
foregoing, and presenting a fresh development of the 
fortunes of some royal house. Our Blessed Lord here 
utters, at the close of His Prophecy, a tetralogy of 
Parables, that of the evil servant in authority, that of 
the ten virgins, that of the talents, and that of the 
separation between the sheep and the goats,—all re¬ 
presenting the awful crisis of judgment, as it will be 
gradually unfolded,—judgment beginning with the 



IV -J Of the Interior Life. 353 

house of God or Christian Church,—taking effect, first, 
upon “ the ministers and stewards of God’s mysteries,” 
who are the servants in authority; next upon Christians 
considered in regard of the interior and spiritual life, 
who are the virgins; next upon Christians considered 
in regard of their exterior life in God’s Service, who 
are the servants entrusted with the talents; and, 
finally, passing on to the non-Christian world, all 
the nations,” or Gentiles, who shall be judged by the 
only law which they have had,—the law of kindness 
to follow-men, which is written on the human heart. 

The connexion in which this Parable of the Virgins 
occurs having thus been exhibited, we will now point 
out the chief lessons which it conveys. 

The persons here warned, then, are those who have 
received genuine religious impressions, and have cor¬ 
responded with fervour to the grace originally bestowed 
upon them. Such were the majority of Christians, in 
the times when the Gospel was first preached with the 
Holy Ghost sent down from Heaven. All were then 
earnest in some measure; for the mere profession of 
Christianity carried with it persecution, and so involved 
a test of sincerity,—all were animated in some degree 
not by faith only, but by zeal and love. A flame of 
joyful hope and earnest aspiration was kindled upon 
every heart,—the flame this of the lamp of the virgins. 
The question was, of course, how long such a state of 
mind would hold out,—how long such a flame would 
burn. An expectation prevailed among the members 
of the Early Church, and even the Apostles seem to 
have been more or less partakers of it, that the flame 
would not have to burn very long. From such ex¬ 
pressions as, “We which are alive, and remain unto the 
coming of the Lord ! ” “ The Judge standeth before 

the door“ Little children, it is the last time 
“ Yet a little while, and he that shall come will come, 
and will not tarry;” “This same Jesus, which is 
taken up from you into heaven, shall so come in like 
manner as ye have seen Him go into heaven,” they had 
gathered, not unnaturally, the impression that “the 

a a 


354 


Of the Interior Life. [part 

day of Christ was at hand.” The Bridegroom would 
soon return to bring them in from the cold outlying 
stations of the world to the joyous light and genial 
warmth of the Wedding Festival;—the Lord Jesus 
would come again, as He had promised, and receive 
His own unto Himself. But if He tarried, as we 
know that eventually He did, what then ? Why, this 
tarrying would give great scope for discrimination of 
character. It would show clearly who could, and who 
could not persevere in His absence. Hitherto religion 
had been very much a matter of impression with 
Christians; Heaven had seemed, at their conversion, 
to open to them all its treasures; the Holy Spirit 
had seemed, when their Baptism was consummated 
by imposition of hands, to descend upon them, if not 
in the likeness of fiery tongues, yet in a flame of 
zeal and love. But this tarrying of the Bridegroom 
would considerably alter the aspect of religion;—• 
would reduce it from a matter of impression to a 
matter of principle. It was easy enough to kindle into 
faith, and hope, and love, when the fervid eloquence 
of Apostles broke upon their ear, and the elevating 
example of Apostles was under their eyes; but when 
their Apostle left them to visit other regions, when 
he died in cruel torments, witnessing of his Lord, 
and the tidings reached them of his death; and yet 
the Bridegroom gave no signal, and they were left 
still exposed to all the inclemency and dangers of the 
dark night, the faith, and hope, and love, then began 
to burn a little low in the socket. And then would 
come out the distinction of character between Christian 
and Christian. Passive impressions are designed to be 
the foundation of active habits, and some would try to 
make them so. Others would allow their impressions 
i to collapse, without providing for the renewal of them. 
Instead of regarding them as something to begin and 
go on upon, they would let them terminate on them¬ 
selves, and wear out, as it were, their stock of grace, 
before the day of reckoning came, without an attempt 
to replenish it. 


355 


rv.] Of the Interior Life. 

And are there no Christians, now-a-days, of exactly 
the same order? None who remain satisfied with the 
stock of grace which they received, when they were 
first brought under religious impressions ? Oh, how 
brightly would their light have been found shining, had 
they been called away by death, or, in other words, had 
the Bridegroom come to them, when the first fervour 
of those impressions was upon them 1 How zealous 
were they then! how strict were their lives! how 
faithful was their protest against the world, and its 
corrupt works and ways! They even talked of being 
assured of their own salvation, not at all ostentatiously 
or boastfully, but merely because in those days God’s 
Spirit did so powerfully bear witness with their spirits 
that they were the children of God. But alas ! their 
original impressions were not secured, and (if I may so 
say) stereotyped by activity in the interior life of faith. 
They did not make the resistance of bosom sins, and 
the formation of the mind of Christ within them, their 
one study and pursuit. The indolent, evil thought 
would still insinuate itself, until it leavened their entire 
character: “ I have been religious once; the oil of 
grace was poured into the vessel of my heart; and I 
can quite afford to go on upon my old stock.” Un¬ 
happily the ministry of God’s Word, as it has been 
carried on in this Church of England for the last 
half-century, tended to foster this miserable delusion. 
Almost all the good preaching was directed to awaken 
the conscience, not to guide it; to make lively im¬ 
pressions, not to render them permanent. If men 
went away from the sermon pricked to the heart, with 
the arrow of conviction rankling in their conscience, 
impressed once for all with the value of the soul, the 
danger of sin, the preciousness of Christ, that was 
all which, for the most part, either preacher or hearers 
looked for; the next Sunday it was sought to do the 
same work over again upon fresh minds. There being 
unhappily little or no intercourse on spiritual subjects 
between the minister and the people, there was nothing 
but his own religious experience to force upon his 
A a 2 


35G 


Of the Interior Life. [paet 

notice the fact that the human conscience, after being 
quickened, urgently needs direction, or, in other words, 
that Christians need gradual edification, as well as that 
primary work upon the heart, by which they are turned 
from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan 
unto God. And, accordingly, it came to he regarded 
as the whole business of the ministry to impress ; and 
the pulpit being unquestionably the great means of 
doing this, public prayers and Sacraments (the means 
of edification rather than conversion) were, to the 
great detriment of true religion, postponed to the 
pulpit; and the hearer, having been worked up to a 
certain state of feeling on elementary religious truths, 
(reiterated oftentimes every Sunday, whatever might 
be the text,) was thenceforth left to fare for himself. 
If he had made a genuine earnest commencement in 
religion, if he had lit his lamp of Christian profession 
with the oil of Divine grace, that was enough; no 
pains was taken to have a reserve of oil in the oil- 
vessel. 

We shall further expand the lesson of the Parable, if 
we look somewhat more deeply into the emblems of the 
light and the oil, and consider the relation which exists 
between them. Observe, then, that the flame of a 
lamp is continually burning away the oil. Also, that 
the flame is visible; and the oil hidden in the vessel. 
The oil, according to an emblem very usual in Scrip¬ 
ture, signifies the Holy Spirit, or divine grace in the 
inner man of the heart. The light, or flame of the 
lamp, shall take its interpretation from Our Lord’s own 
words ; “ Let your light so shine before men, that they 
may see your good works, and glorify your Father 
which is in heaven,”—a reference which gives con¬ 
siderable insight into the consistency of Scripture with 
Scripture. The flame is, in the broadest sense of those 
words, that confession of Christ before men which is 
the external condition of salvation,—the confession 
which is made for each of us by our representatives in 
Baptism, renewed in our own persons at Confirmation, 
virtually repeated whenever we join in an act of 


357 


rv. ] Of the In terior L ife. 

Christian worship, repeated more emphatically still 
whenever we receive the Holy Communion. But the 
burning of the flame implies something more than the 
mere nominal profession, which, under the present 
condition of things, all Christians make. When Our 
Lord bids us let our light shine before men, He 
means something much more than this merely nominal 
profession. He expresses the entire example of the 
Christian life, given both by its external activities, 
and by its quiet influence. The kind actions, the 
benevolent philanthropic schemes, the usefulness to 
others, whether below us or around us,—all these 
are parts of the flame ; n proportion as these are 
prominent in any man’s life, the flame of his lamp 
burns brightly. But note, now, that it is in the 
nature of flame to hum away the oil by which it is fed. 
Christian, if you have spent a busy day in God’s 
Service and in works of love,—if you have stood in 
the breach, and made a manful protest against worldly 
sentiments, practices, maxims,—if you have run hither 
and thither on the errand of mercy to the poor, the 
sick, the dying,—if your hands have been busy on 
some work whereby the truth of God may be main¬ 
tained, and His glory and the interests of His Church 
subserved; this is all good, so far as it goes, and a 
subject of devout thankfulness ; but still it is external 
work, and as being external, it necessarily makes a 
demand upon , and consumes the powers of the inner 
life. It is all an outgoing of oil; and, if there be no 
incomings thereof, the flame will not burn long. 
This good work, this kind word of admonition, this act 
of beneficence, takes up so much grace,—so much 
grace spends itself in the production of it; and, 
accordingly, when it has been produced, more grace 
will be wanted. Now the question is, are you taking 
measures to have more ? And this question carries us 
beyond the external life altogether into the hidden 
man of the heart,—it leads us away from the flame 
into the oil-vessels. “ Your life,” says St. Paul (i. e. 
the springs and sources of it,) “ is hid with Christ in 


358 


Of the Interior Life. [paet 

God.” What of this hidden life ? How is it thriving ? 
“ When Christ, who is our life, shall appear,” will this 
hidden life, which you have been leading, leap to light, 
and be made abundantly manifest ? Would you know 
what is the method of nourishing the springs of this 
hidden life,—of securing a reserve of oil ? One word, 
understood in a broad and spiritual sense, represents 
the entire method,—Prayer. Man of profession, are 
you a man of prayer ? Man of work, are you a man of 
prayer ? Man of activity, are you a man of prayer P 
If your light is shining before men, are you giving all 
diligence to have a supply of oil that you may keep 
it so ? 

And yet, because of the sad tendency of the human 
mind to formalize spiritual things, and to reduce 
spiritual exercises into an “ opus operatum,” (as the 
Romanists reduce the grace of repentance to the 
imaginary Sacrament of Penance,) it is quite possible 
that the term Prayer, when it is said that Prayer is the 
method of feeding the lamp with oil, may need some 
explanation. By Prayer, then, we mean not the mere 
quarter of an hour, or half an hour, which a man spends 
on his knees daily, but rather the spirit and temper of 
mind, in which the Christian aims at going through 
his day. There may be stated prayer, recurring every 
morning and evening, without the hidden life. And, 
conversely, there may be the hidden life under circum¬ 
stances, which render stated prayer an impossibility. 
The prayer we speak of is that which mixes itself up 
with all our actions and recreations, as a lump of some 
solid substance, whose nature is to melt in liquid, gives 
a taste to every drop of the liquid in which it is allowed 
to stand awhile. But it too often happens that the 
prayer of stated periods, though attentively and devoutly 
said, stands isolated and alone, and never manages to 
transfuse its sweetness into our ways, character, and 
conduct. Such prayer is not for a moment to be 
identified with the hidden life. And, on the other 
hand, although we have said that the external life of 
service and profession consumes the grace which is 


IV -] Of the Interior Life. 359 

ministered inwardly, this is only true so far as the 
external life is external. The life of active service may 
he so conducted as to secure fresh supplies of grace. 
If in every part of his active work for God the Chris¬ 
tian sets God before him; if he is very jealous of the 
purity of his motives and the rectitude of his intentions, 
and very self-searching on these points; if he pauses 
awhile amidst his occupations, to realize the Presence 
of God; if he offers up all the works of his calling to 
God in the union of Our Lord’s Death and Passion; if 
he is diligent in ejaculatory prayer; if, even in the 
little crosses and annoyances of the day, he regards the 
will of God who sends them, and takes them accordingly 
with sweetness and buoyancy of spirit; if he cultivates 
the habit of allowing the objects of Nature, and passing 
events, to remind him of spiritual truth, and lead his 
mind upward; if, in short, he turns each incident of life 
into a spiritual exercise, and extracts from each a spiri¬ 
tual good,—then he is cultivating the internal life, 
while he engages in the external; and while, on the one 
hand, he is expending the oil of grace, he is, on the 
other, laying in a fresh stock of it in his oil-vessels. 

The main lesson, then, taught by our Parable, may 
be said to be that of perseverance unto the end. In 
other Scriptures, the doctrine is brought out that God 
Himself secures the perseverance of those who are 
truly His own people,—as, for example, to quote only 
the words of Our Lord Himself: “ My sheep shall 
never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of 
My hand.” Here the equally necessary lesson is ad¬ 
verted to, that perseverance there can be none without 
spiritual industry. The wise virgins had taken pains 
to lay in a reserve of oil; the foolish ones had taken no 
such pains. The warning, then, is for those, in whose 
hearts the flame of the spiritual life has been once 
kindled, but who, forgetting the law of our moral 
nature, that the best impressions consume the energies 
of the soul, and require to be secured in their results 
by the active cultivation of Christian graces, give no 
diligence to make their calling and election sure, and 


3G0 


Of the Interior Life. [part it. 

so eventually frustrate their calling and election. We 
believe there are very many such. We believe that 
where conversion is considered every thing, and edi¬ 
fication nothing; where quiet instruction in the 
lessons of holiness is sacrificed to exciting addresses, 
which stimulate the understanding, and arouse the 
feelings; and where religion is apt to resolve itself 
into a religious emotion every Sunday, just stirring the 
torpor of a worldly life with a pleasurable sensation,— 
there will be many such. And we have devoted this 
little work, upon which, as we close it, we implore God’s 
Blessing, through Our Lord Jesus Christ, to an exposure 
of the hollowness of such a form of piety, and to a 
protest in favour of that interior life (or, in other 
words, that Personal Religion), for the lack of which 
no brilliancy of active service done to God can by 
possibility compensate. 


THE END. 


GILBERT AND RIVINGTON, LIMITED, ST. JOHN’S SQUARE, LONDON. 














































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